


Seven Deadly Sins

by Gaqalesqua



Series: Trash Ship [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Banter, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fellatio, Fingering, Fluff, Light Angst, Marriage Proposal, More Fluff, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Smut, THE FLUFF HAS ARRIVED, Virginity, Voice Kink, Wall Sex, arthur fucking maxson, blowjob, courser porn, ghoulfucking, hancock's filthy as hell, kellogg you shit, maccready's good with his hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6661453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested by nicky-n-john over on tumblr, seven characters from Fallout as representatives of the seven deadly sins - with sex, as always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Envy - Nick Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck.

Diamond City’d always given Nick a double shot of feelings. There was that warm glow that came with returning home, the relief of being able to hang up the hat and relax with four good walls around you, the nicotine tang of his office combined with that musty smell that the whole damn city couldn’t get rid of, and the sound of Travis doing his best on the radio. It was Ellie and familiarity. It was his own space, something he could call his.

But sometimes, sometimes Nick felt like an outsider looking in.

Usually this feeling was accompanied by swaying hips in a blue Vault suit.

It would happen when a guard would lean over to speak to Nora, his voice warm. She’d blushed more than once at the usual, “now what can I do for you, sweetheart?” that they levelled at her. Nick would watch two dirty but whole hands flex around a bat, see a pulse beat just a little faster in a real, human neck. Occasionally in the Dugout Inn Vadim would flirt and grin and his eyes would brighten, proper human eyes with whites and without glowing optics. He’d see Nora’s skin flush, and it was soft, dark, the colour of unprocessed cane sugar, something that the real Nick remembered.

The _real_ Nick.

The _human_ Nick.

God, he wanted to be human sometimes so bad. He couldn’t help but hate the holes, the broken flesh plating of his right hand – a _real_ fuckin’ important hand for certain activities – finding fear in the thought of his eyes driving his Vault dweller away. His Vault dweller. Nora.

About a week later, they were in Malden, clearing synths and raiders out the old metro station. When the fight was done, Nick found himself looking over the synth corpses, and dropped to his knee to search them. Some of the Gen 2’s had undamaged plating, and one of them had an intact right hand.

“You look prettier than them, Nick,” Nora called from down the hall, where she was picking up spare guns.

“Mighty kind of you to say so, doll,” he told her. “But this one’s got a working hand.”

“You’ve got a working hand,” she pointed out, confused.

 _Yeah, but it doesn’t look human,_ he wanted to say. “Not as pretty,” he finally managed. He watched her stand, picking her way over the synth bodies to him. The Sole Survivor holstered her gun and reached for him, taking his hand.

“Looks fine to me,” she chuckled. Nick was suddenly glad he couldn’t blush – or cry, for that matter. She slid her other hand around the metal one she had in her grip, squeezing softly. “You okay, Nick?”

“Guess I’m not as settled as I thought,” he joked weakly. “Truth is…I keep wishing I was human.”

“Why, Nicky?” she asked.

“Because if…if I were human, doll, I’d…I’d be whole, I’d be my own man. Not…not a broken old synth in an old trench and hat,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to his feet.

“What brought this on, Valentine?” she murmured, moving a hand to his shoulder. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

“Perfect? Me? Doll, you ever caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror? You’re the walking definition of perfection, Nora. I’m…I’m envious of the guys who are human enough for you.”

“And you’re one of them, Nicky,” she breathed. “God, you…this is about me? About how people flirt with me? You know how long I’ve been waiting for _you_ to flirt with me? Shit, I latched onto just about anything.”

“You…you’ve what?”

“God, Nick! Did I send the wrong message?”

“I just…you could never really look at me straight in the eye, I figured you were just uncomfortable with looking at me,” he confessed. She bit her lip and Nick stiffened in his trousers. God, just the white of her teeth against the plum dark of her lipstick was getting him going.

“Not in the slightest,” she whispered, her face turning that delicious soft cane colour. “Nick, your eyes…they drive me insane. Whenever you look at me I…I get heat down my spine in places I can’t even mention. I’m not…not _scared_ , Nicky, I’m trying not to jump you in public.”

“Keep talking,” the synth murmured, sliding his hands around her hips. Her breath hitched, a beautiful pull of air that forced her chest out, and he picked her up, forcing that breath out in a cry of surprise. He shoved her back against the wall, his mouth meeting hers, dark lips soft against his. She ground her hips against him and whimpered in surprise when she felt the hard mass of him digging into her thigh.

“Nicky,” she breathed, pulling away for air.

“All the parts,” Nick murmured, canting his hips with a groan. “Minus a few red blood cells.”

His metal hand gripped her zipper and pulled it down as their mouths met again, his teeth and lips attacking her neck. She curled her calf around his thigh and cried out his name as he started stripping her, his own systems keeping him warm and bleeding heat into her as the cobalt blue gave way to sugar cane brown. Soft, trembling brown, littered with stretch marks in various places. His good hand tugged aside the crotch of her underwear as he gazed into her eyes, and the woman beneath him was transfixed by the stare. He could feel her getting slick under his fingers as he kept her gaze on him. She seemed to try to struggle to look away but she couldn’t, caught in the yellow light. Even when he slipped two fingers inside her, she didn’t break their hold, shutting briefly as her mouth dropped open, but he was quickly rewarded with her cerulean blues as she fought for composure. His hand thrust quickly in and out of her, and soft whimpers dropped from her trembling lips, pressing against his as he raised his metal hand to her face.

She pressed the dark flesh against his cool, ruined palm, eyes flicking back to his as Nick crooked his fingers. Her tongue darted out over the metal and his optics widened. If he’d had proper irises they would have been blown out with lust by now, admiring the sweep of the pink muscle as he listened to her moan in pleasure. He slipped in another finger and watched her toss her head back, wrapping herself around him as she struggled under the onslaught of Nick’s skilled hand. Even with his left, he knew what he was doing. The metal fingers undid the clasp of her bra and pulled the straps over her shoulders. He sighed pleasantly into her mouth as they kissed again, both her hands behind his neck to pull him closer.

“Who’d’ve thought after all this time, all this worry, you wanted me as much as I wanted you?” he breathed, and dipped his head to her breast. She let out a choked cry when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, his tongue dancing over it.

“Nicky, please!” she begged, and he palmed her with his metal hand and watched her tip over the edge, her body arching, hips rocking, whimpering when his thumb rubbed against the little nub above her cleft for extra measure. Her teeth clenched, face pulling into the finest damn expression he’d ever seen on a dame. “Oh, my god!”

He let her wind down from her first orgasm before he slipped his fingers out, raising one to his mouth. Her eyes widened as he slid the digits in, swirling the taste of her around his sensors. She was tangy, musky, not sweet in the slightest but god, still so, so good. She scrabbled for his belt and tugged down his trousers, exposing his cock.

“I can play a little longer, doll, or we can move this on,” he murmured, grasping her thighs tightly and trapping himself between her lips and his body. One roll of his hips had her writhing as the firm, pale length brushed slowly over her clit.

“Nicky please,” she whimpered. “Oh god…I…I can’t, please just…fuck me…please!”

“You ask so nicely,” he chuckled, and hoisted her up before he buried himself in her. She wriggled as he pushed inside, and he made a strangled sound as she clamped around him. It was like hot, pulsating wet silk pulling at every inch of him, and she didn’t waste a second of their contact. Her hips started to roll frantically against him, curling an arm around his neck as the other pulled the elastic tie out of her hair. He’d have caught his breath if he’d needed it, the dark brown glowing chocolate soft in the lamplight, and he curled a strand around a metal finger. “I was going to go slow and savour this, doll,” he added.

“No,” she pleaded, as he started to press home to the hilt, feeling her envelop more of him. “No, Nick, oh fuck!”

“You want me to just fuck you, huh?” he laughed, his right arm grasping her around the waist to pull them flush against each other. She nodded desperately, wrapping her other arm around him as she circled her hips. Nick groaned. “Christ, doll, you’re eager.”

He pressed her firmly against the wall and kissed her roughly, abandoning any semblance of a gentle pace and fucking her ruthlessly. Nora’s head fell back, and his lips found her jaw instead. He marked her neck with his teeth and listened to her cries of delight, enjoying how she wriggled helplessly against his grip. The muted thud of their bodies meeting was perfectly tuned to the sounds she made, and he watched sweat trickle down her neck and caught the salt drop with his tongue.

“Tell me what else you like,” he whispered. “About me. About this old synth making you scream.”

“You-uh! _Fuck_ …your voice, Nicky,” she whimpered. “It’s so _promising,_ shit…”

He pulled away from her neck. “Look at me,” he commanded, and watched her glazed over cerulean blues try and focus on the no doubt blurry yellow-gold optics. “That’s it. Good girl.” He felt her tighten, trembling. “Again? You want to come for me?”

“Please, Nick,” she begged. “God, I can’t…don’t make me hold it, please…”

“Don’t hold it,” he growled, his thumb finding her clit. “You keep those pretty eyes of yours on mine, you got that? You come like that.”

His thumb rubbed in tight, hard circles, and he watched her fall apart, pushing her to her pleasure fast and ruthless, until the Vault dweller was crying out desperately beneath him, body heaving for air, as she tried to keep her eyes on her lover.

“That’s it,” he purred. “You’re a good girl, doll. This feel good, huh?”

“Nick!” she screamed, just about keeping her eyes open as the orgasm rushed over her, squeezing hard enough to get Nick’s own end to an abrupt and sudden arrival. He spurted inside her and felt her clench her legs around his waist, pulling him tightly to the hilt as she kept circling her body until she fell back against the cool wall.

“Goddamn,” the detective whispered.

“Oh, Nicky,” she breathed. His thrusts slowed and shallowed, making tiny circular movements with his hips that kept her lashes fluttering as she sucked in air. “Oh, god!”

“You know somethin’, doll?” he asked, as she gazed at him, confused and a little dazed. “Something about synths like me? We don’t have…what do you call em…”

Her eyes widened as she felt him harden once more.

“Oh, that’s right. Refractory periods. So…”

He pumped his body into hers. She jolted, oversensitive, and whimpered in sudden need.

“Want to go again?”

The gleam in his golden eyes was sinful. Nora could only nod.


	2. Greed - RJ MacCready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> intense and selfish desire for something, especially wealth, power, or food.

He’d known for a long time that he’d have to share Nora, but he hated every darn minute of it. Shit, he’d kept his eyes on her ass since she tossed him 250 caps in the back room of the Third Rail, but he’d taken a while to understand that even though her past relationship had been just her and one man, in this new world, she was in love with more than one guy. It made his body burn to see her kissing Nick on the cheek, and even listening to her stammer and blush her way through an innuendo laced conversation with Hancock got his hackles up – and Hancock was one of his favourite people in the Commonwealth.

He was never sure why he’d said yes to sharing her with other men. Maybe because thinking of a life where he didn’t get even a little bit of her was fuckin’ scary. He craved the sensation of her fingers playing with his hair, cupping his face, he enjoyed the soft touches and how much she cuddled after sex. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds she made mid coitus and the heat that bled through her skin whenever their bodies touched.  Her eyes lit up when she laughed and her lips were almost always the most incredible shade of dark, purplish red. They left lipstick rings around his dick when she went down on him. And oh god, that mouth. He didn’t want to share, he didn’t.

But MacCready loved Nora Pendleton with all his heart even if he only had a piece of hers, and hell, a piece was all he knew a guy like him deserved. He was damned lucky she loved his boyish charm and smart comments, because he sure as heck didn’t understand why.

His head hurt when he started thinking of this sh- this stuff.

She’d picked him and Cait up for a job that was too big for her alone. Nora called them her dream team – Cait was the heavy, and MacCready took the headshots, whilst Nora gave covering fire. Heck, even if he didn’t get Nora all to himself, he cherished the fact that she took him and Cait out more than any of her other buddies. Cait flirted heavily with both of them, and constantly, but Nora didn’t mind Cait’s attentions and he knew she’d have been hypocritical if she was envious of the attention the Irish brawler paid to Mac. Still once Cait had been given the pay Nora always handed her and gone off to the Dugout for a drink, Mac and Nora were alone in Home Plate, and the Vault dweller collapsed onto the couch with a soft sigh. Mac sat down next to her, pulling off his cap and duster, tossing it onto a nearby crate as she unzipped the suit a little.

“Sorry for that job today, Mac,” she sighed. “Mutants are never fun to deal with.”

“You’re telling me,” he grumbled, reaching down for the cooler at his side and pulling out a Nuka. “Still, you had my back the whole time.”

She smiled, a soft puff of air escaping her nose as she did so, shoulders shaking briefly. “Can’t exactly abandon my favourite hired gun,” she pointed out.

“Oh, you say that, but you only keep me around for the perks,” he joked, handing her a cola. She took it, popping the cap and taking a mouthful. He watched her lips wrap around the opening of the bottle and suddenly he was straining in his trousers. His hand reached out, catching hers as she moved the bottle away from her mouth, seeing how her throat constricted as she swallowed the mouthful of cola.

“Want some?” she asked, and MacCready wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her up to him as he took a small sip and then put the bottle down, pressing against her. His hands caught in her hair as their mouths met, a little messily but once they righted their position it was a small portion of heaven. She tasted like the Nuka, and he slipped his tongue between her lips and stroked softly, treasuring the moans she made.

Kissing her was addictive. She’d melt into his mouth, curling her fingers into his hair and tugging softly, gentle pulls on the dirty blond that sent tingles down to his crotch and had him hard and hurting in seconds. It was a little bite of pain that always got him going, and he growled into their lips as he rolled himself against her. The Vault suit was skintight, not thick at all, even with the modifications he’d watched her put on it. His trousers weren’t exactly thick either, and so his hardness rubbed right along his girl’s clit until she started to whimper.

His girl. His woman. He pressed harder until she was writhing, deft fingers going for the zip of the suit and pulling it to the navel, sliding beneath it and under the wiring of her bra until they were stroking her quickly hardening nipples. She was gasping now, breathy little noises as he fondled her warm, soft skin that had him frotting rougher.

“Mac, you’re so…” she managed, her thigh curling up around his hip as she pressed back against him, pressure sweet and heavenly against the head of his cock. He momentarily abandoned her breasts and chuckled at the whine she made, working quickly to get her suit down to her knees. God, Vault-Tec were shitty people but thank God for their dumb experiments, bringing their well-designed blue suits to reality and wrapping one tightly around a woman with hips like Nora’s. She reached for his belt but he moved her hands to his shirt instead, managing to get her bra open and finally expose her breasts. He leaned down and started to suck on a nipple, moaning in delight when she let out a sharp cry of pleasure. He pulled at her knickers until they were down by her suit, and shrugged out of his shirt, popping his mouth free to unwind his scarf so that he could slide it beneath her shoulders.

His fingers skimmed the generous flesh around her hips, over the light brown marks of her pregnancy, and dipped lower, spread the dark curls and delved between her lower lips. He grinned. He’d gotten her good. She was slick for him and he slid a finger in easily, then another, pumping them eagerly to get her nice and warmed up. His free hand caressed her, watching her hips slowly push against his fingers as he crooked them. She bit her lip gently, eyes fluttering shut. MacCready dropped his head to her breasts and started licking teasing trails over the soft swells, curling around a nipple before he sucked gently. She groaned, cupping the back of his head as he thrust his hand faster, another finger pressing inside her.

“Oh my _god_ MacCready,” she whispered, and he grinned around the flesh he was adoring, tongue flicking back and forth as he stroked her walls with long, rough fingers. He was starting to hear some amazing sounds, her breath coming out in desperate pants as she slowly got closer to an orgasm. He ate up every single cry she let out, his free hand scratching and stroking her skin softly. He pulled his head back to watch her cum.

The way her face contorted when her orgasm finally hit was an image he filed away for later, something he could use for personal time when she wasn’t around. Her lips stretched open, slightly smeared with dark plum lipstick, and Mac betted there was going to be lipstick around his own mouth. She writhed in his hands, slick covering his fingers, and he kept on fingering her until her legs started shaking.

“MacCready, please!” she whimpered, reaching for his belt, but he pushed her back down.

“Just let me do this,” he asked, his hand stroking broadly over her skin, palming softly at her body. “I want to make you feel good. While I’ve got you.”

“Oh god,” she breathed, her head falling back against the couch. “Oh, _MacCready…_ ”

His thumb pressed against her clit and he watched her jolt, her eyes flying open as her body’s struggles increased in intensity. It was like someone had flicked a switch as he rubbed again and again, firm circles that seemed to be driving her mad. She was doubly sensitive, dripping down his fingers now, a wet mess that was softly calling his name. The noises were sticking in his brain, an intense memory he’d enjoy thinking about next time he was alone. He kept groping at her as the highly sensitive woman climbed back towards another high, and leaned down to suck softly on her neck. His teeth pressed into the flesh and Nora wailed, her walls constricting around his hand as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Another crook of his fingers and she was coming, calling his name as she rode his digits, unable to escape the pleasure he was giving her. MacCready felt a greedy sensation of possessiveness roll through him as she repeated his name, and he moved his hand.

His free palm pressed down over her mound, and Nora let out a litany of filthy words.

He barely made out his name amongst the jumbled mass of this new language, but her eyes were rolling into her head, mouth dropped open, skin shining with sweat as she struggled to accommodate this amount of pleasure running through her.

“I can’t!” she breathed out in a language he could understand. “Oh, Mac…”

“Once more,” he pleaded. “For me. Do it for me.”

She tossed her head from side to side as she screamed, clenching down onto him once more, and he slowed his fingers, undoing his belt one-handed and pushing his trousers down until his cock was free. He retrieved his dripping fingers from her body, sucking two of them into his mouth to taste her strong, musky flavour. He cleaned them off and pressed the third past her lips, letting her try herself. Nora lapped at his fingers and Mac let out a choked groan.

“Mac…”

“I got you,” he breathed, grasping her hips. His cock slid over her clit and the sound she made had him twitching in delight. He pressed inside her to the hilt and watched her reaction as his cock rubbed slowly against her walls, filling her. “Not gonna be nice about this, knockout,” he warned her, kissing her softly.

“Do it,” she breathed, and he groaned, pressing his lips over her jawline as he started to circle his hips. “Oh my _god_!” she choked, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Oh god,” he agreed, and pulled back a little. She hissed out breath through her teeth and then he slammed back into her, body arching with the impact, fingers pushing white marks into her waist as he fucked her with all the pent up lust he’d been holding back for the past ten or so minutes, the rough pace perfect for taking out his needs, and she was happy to receive, fingers returning to his hair to tug and stroke softly until his body was slowly thrumming with pleasure. It was tingling down his spine, curling at the base as he fucked hard, watching her angle her hips for better penetration. He pressed his hand down against her mound again and drank in the screams she made, thumb torturing her little nub until she was all but begging him for mercy.

He didn’t have any.

He was enjoying this too much, watching her lose her darn mind over what he was doing. She could barely hold it together, wrapping her legs around his waist until he grasped a knee with his free hand and pushed it up to her chest. Another orgasm swept over her, wrenching a shriek from her and leaving her boneless and shaky. He used her leg as an anchor, their bodies slapping together, little wet noises massaging his ears as they met and parted again and again.

He leaned down to kiss her as he felt his own end coming, and he teethed her lower lip, kissing the little scar beneath it as he sucked in a breath.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered, thrusting hard and rough into his lover. He felt her hands clasp his ass and push him in deep to the hilt, her nails scratching gently, and he twitched, his cock spurting inside her. Nora moaned and kissed him again, pressing sweet little pecks to his cheeks and jaw as he slowed, her eyes fixed on his.

“You’re such a good guy, Bobby,” she whispered, pulling him down to cuddle. Oh god, her cuddles. He wrapped himself tightly in her and inhaled the post coital musk of her skin, his eyes fluttering shut. And that pet name, it made him feel a warmth he hadn’t felt since Lucy.

“Thanks, Nora,” he murmured, kissing her neck softly. Good guy?

MacCready was a man greedy for contact with a beautiful woman – a man who now had detailed material of her expressions and noises for his own personal entertainment. He was a cap-hungry gun for hire who’d managed to get himself in bed with the most beautiful woman in the Commonwealth. A beautiful woman that seemed happy to kiss him despite his crooked teeth and scratches.

Damn, he was a lucky man.


	3. Lust - John Hancock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> strong sexual desire.

It was one real nice night by the time they got back to Goodneighbour, They’d taken out the mutants hanging around outside with minimal effort, and the hazy smoke scent of Goodneighbour was just settling over him when he felt wind whistling around his head.

His tricorn was gone.

And Nora was running.

“Come get it!” he heard her yell, disappearing into the State House. He watched her ass vanish behind the door before he pelted after her, throwing the old white wood open and hearing her feet slamming their way up the stairs. Damn that cute set of hips and the enticing Vault blue of her ass. Her feet skittered across the floor above him as she headed into his room.

“Oh my god,” he heard Fahrenheit mutter, and then he was up the stairs, and Nora was lying on his couch wearing a stupid smile and his hat. Fahrenheit was already leaving by the time he crossed the threshold.

“Toots,” Hancock growled at the Vault Dweller, who laughed softly and sat up, her eyes dancing with light. “Gimme my hat back, babe.”

“But I like it,” she chuckled, poised as pretty as a pinup on the old, worn seat, adjusting a strand of hair. He paused to take her in, all slender legs and strong calves, a little generous around the waist from her childbearing, dark fingers wrapping around a bottle of bourbon and an empty glass.

“Fine,” he purred, shutting the doors. Nora looked up, her lips parting briefly before she returned to pouring her drink, and then one for him. “You can keep the hat.”

“Thankyou kindly,” she said with a smile, toasting him.

“Wait, I’m not done,” he told her. “You can keep the hat – but lose everything else.”

He enjoyed the sharp inhale that left her.

“Hancock-”

“Get naked or hand the hat back, babe,” he drawled. She downed her drink as her face flushed, and there was a long pause. Her eyes flicked between Hancock and the glass, teeth burrowing into her lip. There was a mile-wide smirk on his face, his eyes glittering, and he watched her deliberate. As if to make his point, he locked the double doors, leaning against them with his arms folded.

“Christ,” she finally whispered, and then her fingers were going to the zipper of her suit, and a triumphant grin replaced the smirk. _Fuck_ yes. Her smooth shoulders appeared from beneath the cobalt fabric, then the faded white of her bra and the swell of her breasts, before she worked the suit over the planes of her stomach, rolling it beneath her ass. Hancock sucked in a breath between his teeth as she reached down to unlace her boots, and in a few strides he’d crossed the room to grab a black leather shoe in one hand and get the damn laces open. He slid it off and caressed her ankle as he did so, listening to a soft moan of happiness that came from the skin to skin contact. His fingers worked softly at the newly exposed flesh for a second or two before they got to her other boot and unlaced it.

“Go on,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her knee. She pulled the suit over her legs and delicately worked her feet through the ends until she was sitting there in just her ill-gotten prize and her dirty, faded underwear. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the arm of the couch, his hands gripping her thighs gently as he stroked her skin. She trembled, moaning gently, her head tipping back just a little and exposing the curve of her neck to him. He pushed up just a little to taste the revealed flesh, nibbling a little with his teeth. The Vault Dweller gasped, hand reaching up to cup the back of his head.

Hancock unclipped her bra and pulled it aside, kissing her collarbone and running his lips down over the curve of her shoulder. He raised a hand and began plucking the pins out of her bun, letting the dark brown hair wash over her body, framing her face and shy eyes. His hands grasped her breasts, thumbs rubbing slow circles around her nipples until she began to breathe a little heavier, mouth falling open just a fraction. He pinched gently and she jolted, her hands clasping his shoulders. He continued to roll the flesh beneath his fingers.

“John,” she breathed, her eyes screwing shut when he massaged his spare fingers beneath the flesh of her breast. “Did you…uhh! Did you just want an excuse to…to get me naked?”

“You got me, toots,” he rasped, drawing his hands away from her. She whined. He pressed his hand against the nape of the neck and slowly drew it down her back, scooping a hand beneath her ass and lying her down on the sofa, making sure the hat stayed securely on her head. “Just wanted a chance to see this beautiful rack.”

“Charming,” she breathed, chuckling softly until he opened his shirt and shrugged it off. He watched her bite her lip, and her hands moved up to his stomach to stroke the ruined flesh. She always did that, without fail. Sex with Nora was all about the touching and the kissing. She didn’t know anything but intimacy and god, after years of people using him for drugs, good sex or political play, fucking a woman who _liked_ him was something novel.

However, as much as he loved the little touches, he had something much better in mind. Her eyes followed his hands across the table as he retrieved a pair of handcuffs, and he gripped her wrists in one hand, cuffing her quickly as the Vault dweller protested.

“Hey, you can’t keep your hands off someone else’s shit,” he chuckled. “Until you can, bad girls get cuffed. Now put ‘em above your head.”

She did so with an embarrassed giggle, closing her eyes as the ghoul lowered his mouth to her chest and started to lick. He circled the wet muscle around her nipple, teasing her with light flicks of the tongue until her hips were starting to press against the leg he’d wedged between her thighs. Her lips parted to allow soft moans to fill the air, and he wondered how many people could hear them. Shit, he knew half of the Watch kept their eyes on his girl’s ass when she passed by, and it wasn’t surprising. The generous hips she ground against his thigh were enough to turn most heads. And that grinding seemed to be doing good for her – the moaning was getting a little louder now, and Hancock stroked his fingers over her arms as he started to roll his leg against her. She let out a sharp cry, followed it up with a needy whimper, spreading her legs.

“What, you want more, babe?” he chuckled.

“H-Hancock,” she stammered, rolling into him.

“Sure, toots,” he murmured, sucking hard on her nipple until she wailed. “What do you want first?”

“Whatev-fuck!” she breathed. “What…whatever you…you want…John…please?”

“Mmm, you’re a lazy girl for making me choose,” he said with a quiet laugh, his hands moving to her hips and curling into the faded white elastic of her knickers. Her breath caught. Hancock pulled, sliding the material over her thighs and knees, tempted to twist the underwear around her ankles and keep her tied. At the sight of her thighs he changed his mind. He wanted those wrapped around his head. So he tossed the white scrap aside and settled between her legs, hands grasping her thighs and giving her long, slow rubs into the flesh with the palms of his hands. She moaned softly, and he watched her breasts rise and fall with each draw of her breath. That was one hell of a sight. He grinned, still massaging her thighs, and darted back up to her chest to suckle softly on a nipple. Nora let out a surprised cry, the muscles in her legs tensing as she shivered gently. He moaned in appreciation. She was stronger than she looked.

He sucked until she was writhing beneath him, pulling his mouth from her breast and kissing slowly down her sternum, stomach, flicking his tongue into her navel. He curled it into the little dip and she squirmed. Hancock parted her lower lips with his thumbs and she jerked her hips, whimpering softly. The whimper was cut off by a desperate cry when he secured his mouth over the bud and sucked. His tongue circled it until it was erect, stroking down her lower lips and back up again just to taste her. Strong, tangy, musky – damn good, in other words. She breathed out his name like she was fucking _praying_ , slick and only getting slicker, even as he lapped at her. His hands stroked gently over her stomach, tickling the stretched skin, and she wriggled, giggles cutting out between soft gasps.

Hancock kept her pinned as he stroked repeatedly over the nub, her cries getting slowly louder. He alternated between licks and sucks, working her with soft moans as he laid himself down over the old cushions, sliding a pillow beneath his hips. He ground himself into it, sliding her thighs around his ears as he pressed two fingers inside her. Nora whimpered, and he looked up to see her mouth wide opened, face screwed together. God yes, she looked good. Her hips rolled in his hands, and with one final suck the Vault dweller fell into an orgasm. Hancock eagerly lapped up the slick that dripped out of her.

“John!” she whimpered. “Oh, god, it’s too much…”

“Too bad, bad girl,” he chuckled. “I like it down here.”

His fingers crooked. Nora’s eyes snapped open and she cried out, giving a half-hearted attempt to struggle out of her lover’s grip. Hancock kept her pinned, fingers lazily slicking in and out of her.

“Toots, your body has some _real_ nice bits,” he told her, reaching up to squeeze a breast gently. She moaned, and he watched her biting her lip when he stroked her nipple.

“I-I like yours too,” she breathed, and he felt her toes curl against his back as he flicked her nub with his thumb. “John, please…”

“Uh-uh,” he said softly. “Pleading doesn’t mean shit today, bad girl. You stole my hat, and now as punishment I’m gonna have fun with you.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and then squeezed shut once more as he sucked her clit again, drawing his tongue around it. He closed his eyes and drank in the slow, rising sound of her moans as his fingers moved a little faster, a little harder, making sure to _really_ work the strange texture his ghoul skin had to drive her insane. She’d admitted not long after their first hookup that the feeling of his fingers was odd, but amazing, and he’d had her pinned and fingered into several orgasms not long after that.

His hand slid up her body and grasped at her breast, thumb teasing the nipple as he caressed the sensitive mound, his tongue still working over her until the Vaultie’s hips were grinding into his mouth. She was _real_ sensitive but now that he’d gotten her worked up again, she wanted to come. He could tell from the way she was trying to keep him close, keep him pushed against her, and Hancock added another finger and listened to her scream. He drank in the slick wet noises her body was making beneath his hand and tongue, and the muscles of her stomach quivered in effort as she arched. He could feel her tightening around him, walls slowly constricting, and seconds before she crested, his fingers slowed, and he pulled them out, his lips and tongue stilling.

“Fuck! Why…would you…oh god, John, please!” she whimpered. He chuckled, licking his lips clean.

“Cause I wanna fuck you now,” he rasped, untying the flag from around his waist and tossing it aside, unbuckling his belt and shimmying out of his trousers. “You ready?”

“Please!” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with need. Hancock leaned over and kissed her roughly, moaning, a rumbling sound that vibrated his chest as he pressed the tip of him against her, rubbing the head over her clit until he was certain she was almost on the edge of her denied orgasm. And then he slid inside her to the hilt, hooking her legs beneath his arms and keeping her spread wide, fucking ruthlessly and roughly into the beautiful Vaultie. Her wrists twisted in the cuffs desperately, and the ghoul’s hips slapped against her ass as he freed his arm from beneath her knee and pulled it down between her hips, rolled a thumb over her clit. He rubbed rough, mean little circles over the sensitive nub and savoured the way her eyes rolled into her head as her orgasm hit her hard and fast.

“That’s it,” he purred.

“Hancock!” she screamed, and he got a whiff of the spicy smell of her sweat. He’d got her good this time.

“Never been touched like that, huh?” he chuckled breathlessly. “God, gonna make you beg _hard_ next time. You thought that was bad, toots? You’re gonna scream for mercy when I got time to _really_ wind you up.”

She moaned in pleasure at the thought as he circled his hips with a hard snap and dug into a soft spot that forced a little scream out of her.

“You like that idea?” he breathed.

“I…should I?” she whispered, lust and fear warring on her face. He grinned at her.

“Oh, you’re gonna learn to love it,” he promised. “It makes that orgasmic high even better when you gotta wait for it.”

“I can’t…” she whimpered, her body working against him as best she could without being able to hold onto him.

“You will,” he said. “Trust me-oh god!”

He broke off to pant into her shoulder as she squeezed him.

“I’m gonna make you go crazy with my fingers,” he rasped, “then my mouth, get you begging until you run outta voice. Then I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a mess, toots.”

“John!” she breathed, tightening around him. Oh, that was getting to her.

“Cause I know how to drive you wild,” he hissed into her ear, lips moving against the shell. “You want that?”

“Hancock, I swear…”

He could see her fighting for her next orgasm as she writhed and sobbed beneath him, and he leaned down to kiss her hard once more, his tongue flicking out across the dark, full lower lip, before his own ruined mouth curved into a grin.

“You gonna come for me?” he whispered.

“Yes!”

“Do it, babe,” he chuckled, and she arched into him with a guttural moan of pleasure, her walls gripping him hard. His thumb kept rubbing until the pitch of it was climbing, growing into a scream. “Oh, god yeah…”

She fell back into the couch, her breasts heaving, and Hancock pulled on a nipple with his mouth as he fucked her hard, seeking his own end now. Her skin was shining with sweat, dripping down her thigh, and it made his own grip slip briefly before he pinned her thighs open and buried himself to the hilt. She gave him another delicious whimper as he slid over her sweet spot, swollen and sensitive, and he took her until he felt his release slowly growing.

“You…feel…so…good,” he grunted out, giving her clit a few quick flicks with his thumb as he finally spilled inside her. “Oh _fuck, Nora._ ”

Her eyes closed, lips parting to inhale and exhale repeatedly, humming in delight at the feeling of him twitching and coming. He slumped onto her, his head burying itself in her neck as he panted. He enjoyed the smell of their bodies lying there together. He stroked his fingers gently over her hipbones, scouting the flesh gently, finally reaching over to the table for the key to the cuffs and unlocking her. The Vaultie slid her arms around him and hugged him tightly, letting out a rumble of satisfaction as they engaged in some post-coital snuggling. She went to take his hat off her head and he pressed it back on her, grinning.

“Keep it,” he said. “If you take it off, that means I gotta let you get dressed.”

“That’s true,” she said, a smile curving against his cheek. She let out a contented murmur as he wrapped his arms a little more snugly around her, his fingers sliding into her hair to play with it gently.

“So, when you’ve got your breath back,” he managed, “fancy showing me a few tricks with that fine mouth of yours?”

“I!” she gasped, and he could _feel_ her blush. “I could…arrange…something…”                         

“Nice,” he rasped, and kissed her forehead. “But…nap first.”

“Yes please,” she murmured.


	4. Pride - Arthur Maxson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one's own achievements, the achievements of one's close associates, or from qualities or possessions that are widely admired.

He traced his thumb down the Deathclaw scar, feeling the ridge of the rent beneath his fingers, and sighed. He’d been told multiple times that it made him look older, fierce and unyielding, and he certainly enjoyed the impressed looks he’d been given more than once by both Wastelanders and Brotherhood alike. Still, sometimes he hated the tear in his skin.

Though, it was a mark of his abilities and the abilities of his soldiers. If they hadn’t weakened the Claw that day, they’d have all died, and if he hadn’t driven the ripper into its belly, they’d have all died. He’d learned to wear it as a badge of pride, but it still stung occasionally.

He straightened up from the mirror, sighing. It was too late in the evening to be worrying about foolish things like how he looked. Time to take a walk. It could do some good and clear his head.

He opened his door and began making his rounds slowly, absorbing the feel of the place. The Prydwen was comforting at night, the sounds of Knights and scribes sleeping in peace despite the size of the ship. Someone was humming gently in the background near the power armour stations, and he headed towards them, listening intently. The voice was soft, feminine, and comforting. He approached the armour stations carefully, trying not to make too much noise in case it disturbed the mystery singer.

At least, until she inhaled, and began to softly croon the lyrics to a song he’d heard on the radio before.

_“He’s a demon, he’s a devil, he’s a doll…”_

He knew that voice. He’d heard it offering words of wisdom before at his side, and for some reason he had to fight down heat that had started rising in his face. It was the Sentinel. He heard the sound of her fixing her armour, an undercurrent of metal beneath the soft beauty of her voice. There was a light on by one of the stations, and as he made his way over to them he could see her, Vault suit stripped down to her waist with the dark, slender expanse of her back in full view. His eyes followed the curve of her spine down to her cobalt blue ass and suddenly his eyes were widening.

He’d really never looked at Pendleton like that before. He wasn’t an idiot – anyone could have seen the woman was beautiful with her large, smiling eyes, easy grin and gentle, husky voice – but there was _knowing_ she was beautiful, and there was _thinking_ she was beautiful. And Arthur found himself _thinking_.

Christ. He needed to calm down. He was the Elder, and even if Sentinel Pendleton was one step away from that rank herself it still wasn’t appropriate to be thinking of her that way. It was unlikely she’d be interested in a man so much younger than herself. And he had no clue if she was still fertile or able to reproduce-

 _Get a grip, Arthur! You’re the last of the Maxsons. You run the East Coast Brotherhood. If you want the Sentinel you can approach her the same way any Brotherhood member would._  

He should go back to his rooms and strategize how best to approach this, logically. He should. But…her singing was so beautiful, and when she paired those lyrics with her gentle, husky voice, he felt himself getting warm. He should have left, but by the time she was on the final verse, Arthur found himself spellbound, leaning against a wall with his eyes half-closed. So he missed her getting to her feet and shutting the tools away, and only realised he was watching her when the Vault suit started sliding up her back and over her shoulders. He scrambled to move like he hadn’t been staring, and in his haste knocked a clipboard off a nearby cabinet with his shoulder. When he looked up, their eyes met, her fingers still adjusting the collar of her suit. Hers widened, a dark flush covering her skin as they stared off at each other. He felt his throat drying up, frozen in surprise, his heart thumping.

“Sentinel,” he finally muttered, and turned on his heel, stalking back to his quarters as quickly as he could. He could feel a flush of his own spreading across his face, the tips of his ears burning. A second or so before he reached his door he heard footsteps behind him, and turned his head a fraction to look. The Sentinel was still blushing when she reached him, a smear of grease disappearing down her neck beneath the suit.

“Elder,” she said softly. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I have a lot on my mind,” he replied. “What about you? A little late to be repairing your armour, isn’t it?”

“I prefer the Prydwen at night. It’s quieter,” she told him.

“You can’t like the silence all that much,” he commented.

“What makes you say that?”

“The singing. I didn’t realise you could sing.”

“Not often,” she said with a small smile. “Just…when the mood takes me. The song’s a…a little cheeky but it’s one of my favourites. Betty Hutton. Sang it in a bar once, before…well.”

“Before the war?”

“Yeah.” She paused. “How long were you standing there?”

“Most of the song,” he admitted, clasping his hands behind his back. He watched her suck her lower lip in briefly before running her teeth over it, and he looked away briefly to dampen the arousal he felt at the two small movements.

“Does…the music explain why…you were staring?” she murmured softly. If his ears had been burning before Maxson was fighting desperately to keep the flush from his face now.

“Why was your Vault suit…why were you so…did you really need to…pull the suit down?”

“I got warm,” she said, her voice low, and her feet made a little step towards him. “Why?”

“I’ve never…seen…”

“Elder? Are you…blushing?”

They both were. His face was hot and he could see the telltale dark red on her cheeks.

 _Screw protocol_.

“Would you like a drink?” he murmured. Her lower lip disappeared again.

“I think I have one in front of me,” she whispered. His eyes widened briefly, before he was shoving the Sentinel against his door, his mouth meeting hers. Her hands slid over the leather of his coat as their lips worked together, pulling him tighter against her, soft moans dropping from her, eyes closing. He pressed her into the metal as his hands found her hips, moving roughly over the hipbones to her ass, picking her up with little effort. She kissed him with a fervour, hands moving to cup his face, thumbs stroking down his jawline. His leg pushed between hers, his body flush against her, and he nudged her jaw up to kiss at her neck. The smell of armour grease filled the air and he pulled back, watching her bite her lip.

“I should…clean up,” she said softly.

“Agreed,” he mumbled, tracing his lips up her cheekbone. “Use my shower.”

He opened his door and escorted her inside, pulling her back so that his chest was pressing against her shoulder blades, inhaling the scent of her hair for a moment before he let her go. She stroked her fingers over his arms as he did so, unbuckling her PipBoy and placing it down on his table, her hands sliding into her hair to retrieve the bobby pins she used to keep it in a bun. The long dark waves washed down her back, and he ran his own fingers through it, marvelling at the softness. Seconds later, she was shrugging out of her blue suit, and his mouth was dry again. He let his coat fall off his shoulders, placing it on the table with her things.

Her fingers gracefully hooked around the soft mass of her hair and pulled it over her shoulder, and he beat her hands to the clasp of her bra, unhooking it slowly and watching her as she shrugged it off. She turned around, and he could see the oil marks, streaks of grease lining her body, the subtle play of the muscles on her stomach. She still had a soft little give from her pregnancy, and he stroked a palm over it, before he began unzipping his flight suit. He let his eyes linger on her breasts, brows raising, breath catching, stripping his own suit to the waist.

“You’re…joining me?” she murmured. He leaned down to kiss her again, wrapping his hands around her soft body. She grasped his arms, moaning gently.

“You…could have difficulty reaching some spots.”

She laughed softly, sitting down to unlace her boots and kicking them off as she finally stared at him, her eyes lingering over build of his body. He let her gaze, enjoying the prickle on his skin that her eyes elicited. Her face was full of admiration, lips curled into a soft smile, and she leaned her chin on her shoulder to admire him for a long while before she finally stood and worked the suit down to her knees. He moved past her to the shower and reached in to turn it on, returning to pull his gloves off and toss them aside as he watched her delicately slip out of her Vault suit, fingers hooking into the waistband of her underwear. He reached forward and tugged her into him by her wrist, kissing her firmly, his fingers drawing circles into her back.

Before the woman pressed against him could finish undressing herself, Maxson had gripped her remaining clothing and ripped the stitching, allowing the dirty white cloth to drop to the floor. He turned around with a small grin as she gasped, and he kicked off his boots as she rifled in her pack for something, sliding his own suit over his thighs. Cold metal pressed against his hip, and then she was cutting his boxers by the seams, and they dropped to the floor to join hers.

“Tit for tat,” she murmured, flushing, and put the knife away, watching him turn around and finish undressing.

“I’ll remember that you like to even the score,” he promised softly, finally naked in front of her as steam began to pour out the top of the shower cubicle, the glass already fogged. He pushed her against the wall once more, cupping her breasts gently and swallowing her moan with his lips, before sliding his hands down her body, arching her into him and picking her up by the thighs. He carried her into the shower, closing the glass door behind them and locating a sponge and some soap. She shivered as he carefully cleaned the grease off her neck, rubbing the sponge gently across her arms, into the crook of her elbow, enjoying the soft sigh she let out. He worked the muck off her skin, taking every opportunity to caress her, fingers roaming her thighs, over her ass, cupping her hips. When her neck was clean he dipped his mouth and kissed it roughly, tongue stroking up the cord of muscle and teeth digging softly into the flesh.

“Elder,” she whimpered softly, caressing his stomach and hips with her delicate hands. He pressed their lips together, his fingers moving down her body, pausing just above her mound.

“I think you can call me Arthur, Sentinel,” he murmured.

“Then call me Nora,” she breathed, stroking a lock of soaking wet hair away from her forehead.

“Nora,” he said softly, kissing her again. The tips of his fingers slid down her mound, and he watched her lashes flutter. “Sentinel…Nora…I’ve never…”

She grasped his wrist as she nibbled his lower lip, her fingers moving his, positioning a single finger at her entrance and slowly pressing it inside her, biting her lip as his eyes widened, her own closing. The sensation of her just wrapped around a single finger was indescribable. He had never touched anything so soft, or so wet.

“What do I do now?” he asked, a tad shyly, and she kissed him softly, rolling her hips against his finger. She went silent for a moment as she tried to gather her thoughts. She pressed her hand against his chest and made a crooking motion with her finger, and he copied her. She leaned against him, her arm sliding around his neck, keeping her anchored against him as she breathed out, rocking her body into the touch.

“Arthur,” she managed. “You…put…put another finger in…please?”

He did so, attempting to curl them both as she’d instructed.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she whimpered, nipping his shoulder. He groaned. “Faster?”

He tried, uncertain, but the sound she made when he sped his hand up a little sent hot flecks of need down his spine. She kissed him, panting between licks and nips of her teeth on his lips, and one of her hands slid down. He assumed it was to take his wrist and he stilled for a second, before realising her own hand had stopped, and she was whining in need. He quickly started once more, pressing her firmly against the wall of the shower. He felt her knuckles knocking softly at his hip and looked down.

She was working herself, helping him get her off, and Arthur took her hand away and pressed against where he’d seen her pressing. A strangled gasp left her and her mouth dropped open, brows moving upwards as she rolled helplessly against him.

“Oh, oh my god,” she chanted. “Arthur…keep on…right there, please!”

He sucked on her neck, drinking in her moans, rubbing both hands into her firm and hard until the woman was quivering. He could feel her tightening, and when she had her orgasm she was kissing him, hands tangled into his hair and tugging firmly until he grunted. That pulling sensation had been less pain and more pleasure, and as he listened to her cry out into his mouth he found himself intrigued by the unexpected development.

She was quiet for a while after she had come, folding into his arms once he’d finally removed his fingers from her. The water washed away most of her, but he still managed to taste her, a heady, strong tang. He hoped she could taste herself when she kissed him next, their lips locking as he hooked his fingers beneath her thighs, pulling her into him, his erect cock rubbing against her. She moaned softly, and he picked her up, letting her wrap her legs around him to keep herself secure. It was a brief respite from the kissing but they were quickly locking lips once more, and he reached down between them to guide himself into her.

He couldn’t stop the bark of pleasure that left him, breath stuttering out of his mouth as the heat and slickness of her pulsed around him. Her lips were on his neck, her arms holding him tightly, hot water running over them both as they began to move, his thrusts slow and uneven. She rolled her hips, tongue running up his skin as he grunted and pressed forward, keeping her against the wall of the shower to anchor them better. He’d sometimes had a spare moment to relieve his own urges, but god, his hand had never felt as good as she did. Her fingers slid down his back to his hips, pressing him into her with a whimper.

“More?” she whispered, and kissed him again, so Arthur gave her more, his body moving against hers in a rhythm, her breathing sharp and needy as he fucked her. Her nails dug into his back and scratched lightly, jolting him forward into her as he wrapped one arm around her ass and pushed her thighs wide open. His other hand slid between her legs, fingers knocking awkwardly at that nub she’d been touching earlier, and a rough moan left her mouth, forcing her to pull back and try to regain her breath.

“Fuck,” he rasped as she squeezed him tightly. “Senti- Nora…”

“Arthur,” she whispered. “Is this…are you…”

He darted forward to lock his lips roughly with hers once more, needing her suddenly. The soft sound of her voice was making his heart beat faster, and he took her with as much speed as he could muster, calling out softly. Shit. He could already feel the heat gathering in his groin, releasing her mouth to grit his teeth together, eyes squeezing shut. Her hands cupped his face, her lips kissing his forehead.

“Can’t…last…” he warned her, rubbing her harder, enjoying the way her breath rasped as the pleasure started overtaking her too.

“Then…don’t,” she breathed, curling tightly around him. “Arthur…”

“You…” he managed, his words strangled. He couldn’t say it. The thought of saying it made him flush, sent embarrassment running hot through him, even now, buried inside her. “…Inside you?”

He hid his head the moment she said it, and over the sound of his own laboured breathing, he just about caught her frantic _“yes!”_

The very idea of… _finishing_ in her was too much for him. He grabbed her around the waist with both hands, holding her down firmly as he growled his release into her neck, the feeling of emptying in her making his head swim. She was clenching him tightly but somehow he didn’t feel like she’d come again. He was disappointed. He’d read…he’d hoped he could have gotten her off again just once more before this ended.

He slumped against the shower wall, trying not to crush her with his weight, and regulating his breathing with a great deal of difficulty. He could feel her body still tense from the build-up of her own orgasm, the crest now fading away without having been attained. He slid slowly out of her, watching her eyelids flutter at the sensation, and pressed his thumb to her nub, rubbing it repeatedly. He’d slide a finger inside but- well, he’d emptied inside her and somehow the thought of cleaning her out, of denying him a chance to sire a child-

_Where had that come from!?_

He kept thumbing her, enjoying her slowly growing cries as he wound her back up to an orgasm, and finally pressed two fingers inside her, curling and stroking until the Sentinel arched with a yelp of pleasure and squeezed his fingers hard. Little drips of white slid down his fingers and dropped into the drain. He tried to avoid making a face. In seconds it didn’t matter – the Sentinel was kissing him, thighs trembling around his hand as he pulled his fingers out, and he washed them off beneath the stream of hot water before wrapping his arms around her and crushing her to him. She let out a contented moan. They were in each other’s arms until the shower suddenly got cold, and with a screech of surprise she sprang back, leaning towards the handle and turning the water off.

They stared at each other, dripping wet, until a giggle burst from her throat, and she raised a hand to her mouth, shivering a little. He pushed open the glass door and helped her out, finding a towel and wrapping it around her. Arthur picked her up, putting her down on his couch as he found a towel for himself and began to dry off, watching her out of the corner of his eye. The towel was warm from hanging on a hot rail, and she burrowed into it, wiping her face dry. A few locks of wet, almost black hair dripped over her face and she pushed them away, looking up at him.

Those eyes.

Cerulean. So innocent. They stood above a small, content smile that made his face go pink, his hands wrapped in cloth and halfway through his hair, drying it out.

“I should…sing more often,” she said softly. “Or…maybe you need to be more restless.”

“That…depends,” he began, suddenly feeling shy. Her brow raised questioningly, and he moved over to her, sitting down and wiping his neck dry.

“On?”

“You,” he finally said.

“In what way?” she asked. He swallowed.

“I don’t…it’s frowned upon in general to… _fraternise_ ,” he told her. “This…liaison…even at our ranks, it’s not generally accepted.”

He watched her seem to sink into the couch, her eyes dropping, and fear flooded him.

“Because the Brotherhood would prefer that relationships would refrain from being something casual that could potentially endanger the thinking of the higher ranked soldiers!” he added hurriedly. “If we’re to continue…”

“Having sex in showers?” she said softly.

“Yes,” he agreed. “If…such relations are to continue…I would prefer it if…if…you…”

She looked at him, confused.

“Sentinel, all I’m asking is…have you ever considered the sound of the surname _Maxson?_ ”

“I’m…I’m not sure,” she murmured. He could feel his body drooping in disappointment. He was moving too fast. He should have pulled out. Christ, what if she was pregnant now?

“It’s understandable,” he began, and she squeezed his arm.

“Perhaps we should just…keep on having sex like this…until I change my mind?” she whispered warmly. His head snapped up.

She was grinning at him.

He pushed her down into the couch, kissing her furiously, unwrapping the towel and exposing her to him once more. Her hair was still cold and wet but he ran his fingers through it and cupped her face.

“That’s quite the sense of humour, Sentinel,” he rasped. “I almost fell for that one.”

“Have I destroyed your trust in me?” she chuckled softly.

“Utterly gone,” he told her, kissing her jaw. “I believe I require a new reason to have faith in you.”

“I have…at least a few ways,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“Sentinel Maxson sounds very appealing.”

Heat grew in his stomach, his eyes glinting as he looked down at the woman who’d agreed to be his.

He didn’t have long to look down. She flipped him onto his back, the lights illuminating her like a halo.

 _She’s mine_ , he thought. _And she’s beautiful_.


	5. Gluttony - Conrad Kellogg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> habitual greed

He met the soft, Pre-War Vault Dweller. They fought. She kicked his ass. They ended up sprawled naked in his bed. She let him live. And goddamn was he glad she did. Fucking her in Fort Hagen had been the first time he’d felt alive in years. He’d been grinning through the bruises and scratches she left from the fight and the sex afterwards, his body still aching as they left the Pre War ruin in silence. They didn’t talk until they reached Graygarden, and even then she only offered him a brief ‘holding up okay?’

He gave her a gentle grunt in reply and raised a brow. And fuck, it was _amazing_ how little it took to get her blushing. He’d already known she liked hearing him speak from their…altercation. But if the woman with the great ass was as easy to arouse as this he was going to have a hell of a load of fun travelling with her. When she finally looked away from him, he was already plotting.

She was taking him to Diamond City, he realised, as they followed the road around into Cambridge ruins. He found himself humming a song from the radio, and with his implants, he could hear the swallow his new, fetching travelling companion made at the sound.

“Really?” she muttered.

“What?” he chuckled, watching the scattering of freckles disappear beneath a soft blush.

“You know what,” she told him. “Really? _‘Personality’_?”

“Is that the one?” he asked with a grin. “Funny. Because, you know…”

“If you make a smart quip,” she warned, but the beginnings of her threat were completely destroyed by the dark red of her embarrassment.

“You’ll shoot me?” he finished. “Sure, if it ends the same way as it did before, take all the shots you want.”

He heard her _inhale_ like breathing suddenly hurt, eyes widening, and he found himself swallowing same as she had. God, what a noise. What a face. He wanted to bite down on her exposed lower lip and tug her mouth to his.

Shit, what the hell.

His arm looped around her waist and he dragged the woman into an empty side street, pressing her against an old doorway. Her eyes were as wide open as her mouth and he dived for the beautifully painted plum red flesh. It was the same as last time. Her warmth flooded him and even as he slid two hands over her ass and squeezed until Nora was moaning, he could feel the tension draining out, lost in the taste of her and the genuine passion she was putting into their kiss. He licked the curve of her mouth, flicking his tongue over hers, plunging it hard into her as her arms wrapped around his waist and her hands slid up his back. Before he knew it he was groaning in pain, her fingers catching bruises, and she drew back, her eyes filled with concern.

“Maybe…maybe we should wait until your body heals,” she whispered, biting her lip. Just the teeth on the plump flesh made him rock hard and he growled in need.

“God _damn_ ,” he hissed. “You did a real number on me, Vaultie.”

“That’s your own fault,” she told him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he chuckled.

They got going again ten minutes later, finally getting to Diamond City as the sun was setting.

“You’re going to have fun explaining this,” he commented.

“Don’t worry,” she told him, eyes on the road. “I’m the only one who gets to shoot you.”

“Yeah?” he said. “I hope so. Your friends are going to have a good time fighting you for that privilege, lady.”

“Then I’ll go first,” she decided. “Just follow me.”

“And the dying man’s final request is an eyeful of Vault blue ass,” he muttered. As she took point, he watched her face flush again. They were let in easily, both being residents, and he watched her wipe her sweaty hands off on her Vault suit as they approached the Valentine Detective Agency.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Nick Valentine?” Kellogg whistled. “Damn. Didn’t have a prayer if you got the clockwork dick on my tail.”

“Well, at least you’re impressed with my methods,” she murmured.

“Oh, I was,” he promised, leaning his lips down to her ear and watching how the hairs on the back of her neck rose. “The duct tape was a seriously genius idea.”

“I hate you,” she breathed, her words shaky. He trailed his fingers down her arm.

“Keep telling yourself that, because that thing you did with your mouth-”

“Okay,” she gasped, “enough. Let’s go face the music.”

And both of them entered Nick’s office.

“Oh god, Blue, you’re-”

“ _What the goddamn hell._ ”

“Nick, put the gun down,” Nora barked. “He’s with me.”

Kellogg found himself smirking at the implication. The synth had drawn his pistol the second Kellogg entered the room, and he was shielding Piper, who had her own weapon out and ready for violence.

“Jesus, Blue,” she swore, “is this…?”

“The hell is he doing with you?!” Nick demanded. “Doll, this man…”

“Wronged me more than anyone, Nicky,” she agreed. “Please, Nick. Put the gun down.”

The detective’s brows furrowed, his grip tightening on the gun. He wanted to comment, but she was doing her best to calm her buddies down, and a quip could ruin her hard work. So despite his desire to throw a remark into the wind he remained quiet.

“Fine,” Piper muttered. “If he makes a move towards his weapon,” _heh_ , “I’m shooting him.” She lowered her own gun, but didn’t put it away.

“Nicky?” Nora murmured. “Do you trust me?”

“Implicitly,” the synth assured her. “It’s him I don’t.”

“I could’ve killed him, easily,” she told him.

“Ouch,” the mercenary muttered. She elbowed him.

“And I chose not to,” the Vaultie continued. “Please don’t mess up my work by shooting him now. He’s going to help.”

“To ‘help’?” Nick spluttered. “How the fuck’s he going to help?”

“I can tell you how to get into the Institute, for a start,” Kellogg chuckled.

“Information you weren’t forthcoming with earlier,” Nora muttered under her breath. His eyes flicked to her and he raised a brow.

“Yeah, because I thought you had a fair chance of dying,” he pointed out. “And since I’m now at the mercy of your pretty, Vault blue ass, trust me, I’ll talk.”

“Don’t talk about my friend like she’s a piece of meat!” Piper barked. His eyes flicked between the girl and the Vaultie, waiting for her to say something.

“Don’t worry,” Nora said soothingly. “He’s an asshole, but that’s just what he’s like.”

It wasn’t what he’d been hoping to hear, but it placated the other woman for a moment. Nora gestured for them to sit, and Kellogg parked himself on a nearby desk.

“So, gonna tell us the Institute’s secrets?” Piper asked. Her eyes…seemed to be gleaming. He remembered reading about this woman, the journalist. M7-62 was constantly asking for Kellogg to dispose of her, but luckily for her, the old man didn’t consider her that important.

“Sure,” he chuckled, watching Nora bite her lip. “For a start, the Institute doesn’t have an entrance. To get in and out, you gotta get relayed. It’s…teleportation, basically. The day they finished that thing they sealed off every way into the place they had. Keeps ‘em safe from the outside world.”

“So how do I get relayed?” Nora asked.

“You’ve got a couple options. But I’m pretty sure at least one of ‘em is gonna get your buddies shoving a bullet down my throat,” he replied.

“Like?”

“I request a relay back, and you and I get cosy in the beam together,” he suggested.

“No,” Nick snapped. Kellogg fought his rising grin.

“See?”

“And the other?”

“The scientist I was hunting down is the only other lead you’ve got on how to get in,” Kellogg told her. “But he’s BioScience, likely doesn’t know a thing about the teleporter, and I doubt he’d be too happy if I showed up. After all, I’m supposed to be his one-man execution squad.”

“And you think I’m going to trust you with her, after the shit you put her through?” Nick growled. He shrugged.

“Her decision, right? I owe her my life, Valentine. And as far as the Institute will be concerned once I bring her in, I’m either gonna be killed or thanked. Those odds aren’t great for me.”

“Thanked?” Piper repeated. “Wait…what?”

“I don’t understand. Why…would you be thanked?” Nora asked, her brows furrowing. Kellogg swallowed.

“Christ,” he began weakly. “Okay. Fine. They didn’t want you to know but sucks for them. The director, the guy who gives me my orders…shit, how do I phrase this?”

“In the easiest way possible,” Nora suggested.

“All right. You weren’t refrozen for ten years. It was sixty. Your son…your son runs the Institute.”

Nora’s eyes widened. He looked over at Piper.

“Oh, and you’re right about McDonough. He’s a synth.”

-

“Sixty years.”

She had been saying that for the past hour as Doctor Sun cleaned the rest of his wounds and patched him properly, giving him a dose of Med-X to dampen the pain. He could feel his enhanced body working to heal the bruises already, but the extra care would do wonders for him.

“What’s he like?” she murmured.

“Smart,” he told her, shrugging back into his jacket. She’d destroyed his shirt and he hadn’t been bothered to get another one, so he zipped up the bulletproof garment over his bare torso and pretended he hadn’t seen her eyes enjoying his body. “Really, really smart. When he was a kid he made a shitload of gizmos and widgets that he’s still got around his office. Ass- kid likes to pretend he doesn’t get sentimental, but he does.”

“Does he look like me?” she asked, as she hopped down off the trash can she’d been sitting on and picked up her bag.

“Kinda? His eyes aren’t your colour. Guess he’s got his old man’s nose too,” he added. “Doesn’t look like yours.”

The woman put her fingers on her nose, and then laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Ah, well, neither does mine, in honesty,” she admitted. “I…headbutted someone in high school for telling me I was Chinese.”

“Christ.”

“Yeah, they didn’t mean it in a nice way either,” she assured him. “Pretty big insult back in the day. But I didn’t really look at what I was doing and I broke my nose doing it. I can’t remember what it used to look like.”

“You used to scrap?”

“I hit whoever hit the weaker kids. Didn’t have all that many friends other than the unpopular ones. I hung out with the kids from the biker gangs and smoked a lot. I got good grades but it was never good enough for my mom. My dad paid for some self defense lessons during my last few years at high school and eventually sent me up to Boston University when I graduated because I showed such a keen interest in protecting people. He said lawyers could do that and I should try it.”

“So you went from punching people in the face to yelling at them across a room,” he said. “Kind of a downgrade.”

She rolled her eyes over to gaze at him, moving away towards Home Plate.

“You act like I don’t spend my days shooting people,” she pointed out, sliding her key into the lock and letting them both in.

“You do _now_ ,” he agreed. “But apparently, only certain people.”

She blushed as they stepped inside, pocketing her keys and moving over to her table to deposit her bag down on one of the chairs, kicking her boots off. He remembered getting them undone with his teeth and chuckled softly. She spun on her heel to look at him, confused.

“So, what’re the sleeping arrangements?” he asked casually, and watched the light pink tinge on her skin deepen. “Or do I even need to ask?”

“You get the floor, asshole,” she muttered, embarrassed.

“And you were so worried about my wounds earlier,” he said, feigning hurt. He took a step forward, towards the Vault dweller, his eyes following her careful movement back towards the table. “You know, after getting the doc to patch me up, I think I’m back in fighting shape again.”

“A-and that means?” she murmured, her ass hitting the rim of the wood. His hands slid either side of her, pressing flat against the table as he loomed over her. He couldn’t help it. When she got angry, she was the dominant one, but it took seconds to get her flushed and submissive. He loved it. He loved that dark red face as his thigh slid between hers and pressed hard enough to push a gasp out her lips.

“We have unfinished business from earlier,” he told her.

“Right,” she said shakily.

It was the way she breathed it out with a quiet air of need that pushed his lips onto hers. She swallowed a gasp as he pressed harshly against her, his hands raising to her face to anchor her to him. He felt her fingers tightening around his forearms as she breathed in heavily through her nose, her hips bucking a little into his thigh. He drank in the sound of her, gloved thumbs stroking her cheekbones. There was a little wet smack as their lips parted briefly, and then his hands were tangling into her hair, irreparably messing up the neat bun she’d tied the soft brown locks into before he began pulling out the pins. He slid his palms slowly down her back, pushing them roughly into her skin to haul her against him and finally reaching her waist. The surprise squeak she let out when he grasped handfuls of her ass had him laughing softly into her lips, and he massaged the soft flesh with his thumbs as she curled her hands around the back of his neck.

He finally abandoned her mouth, panting, and watched her face twist into disappointment as she whined at the loss. His fingers raised to her suit zipper and pulled, suddenly exposing her to him, sliding his hands beneath the cobalt blue and pushing it over her shoulders.

“Barely…barely time for a kiss and you…moving on?” she panted, her thumb stroking his pulse. He dipped his head to her neck and kissed softly over the bites he’d left on her skin not long ago. They showed up beautifully dark on the leather-brown flesh, though for a moment he mistook them for bruises of abuse and tried not to wince, soothing them with his tongue. She let out soft little moans, her voice giving him shivers as one hand secured itself in the small of her back, the other working her arms free of the blue Vault suit.

 “I’m a greedy man,” he breathed into her neck, kissing again, giving the barest hint of teeth. She inhaled sharply, pulling him closer. Not pain, then. Thank God.

“Asshole,” she sighed lovingly, and the tone made him warm. He skimmed his fingers over her back as she unzipped his jacket, kissing his shoulder and helping him shrug the leather garment from his shoulders. She was immediately tracing the trail of black and grey hairs that descended to his navel and below, curling her fingers around them whilst he pushed the suit down to her thighs.

“And still I live,” he muttered, returning his hands to her back and curving the tips of his fingers down her spine. She arched with a gasp, lashes fluttering shut when he applied nails, moaning softly.

“I’m…oh…I’m questioning my judgement,” she managed, her breath hitching. He lapped at her shoulder the same way she’d kissed his, lips scouting her collarbone as he leaned down and pressed kisses to her sternum.  

“Keep telling yourself that,” he murmured, licking a wet trail across her breast and sucking a nipple into his mouth. She clasped the back of his head tightly to her, hips squirming. He spent a few moments suckling her, before he pushed her down onto the table, one hand pinning her down by her hips as he finally slid the Vault suit over her legs and off her body. By the time his other hand was free to cup her unattended breast, his tongue was flicking over the nipple fast and hard, the Vault dweller’s mouth open and emitting hot, desperate cries.

“Kellogg!” she whimpered, her head falling back as he stroked his index finger across her nipple, breath catching. He could feel her skin growing warm beneath his lips, the red flush on her face spreading down her neck and across her chest. He rolled her breast slowly beneath his hand, the other pushing slowly down her stomach causing her to giggle weakly as it skimmed her muscles and the sensitive, marked flesh around her hips. Hooking his fingers into her pants, he switched breasts, pulling her underwear down her thighs and letting it drop over her knees to the floor. She rewarded him with another weak sound, still keeping him close to her breast as he sucked, until he could feel her nails digging into give her a desperate feeling of control and grounding. He groaned at the soft, pleasant bite of them, stroking her thighs with his hands, pausing to slide his gloves off and tossing them beside her on the table. Hands now exposed, he parted her thighs, pulling his head away from her breast and listening to the sharp, helpless cry she let out.

His mouth pressed against her stomach, scooping up her thighs and slinging them over his shoulders, before his lips were on her inner thighs and mouthing gently. He watched her hand fly to her mouth as she muffled her soft whimpers, legs shaking at the rasp of stubble against such sensitive flesh. She was caught between giggling and gasping, finally emitting a little laugh that stuttered with pleasure each time he swiped his tongue over her. All this, and he hadn’t even touched her sex.

“Put your hand down,” he growled, and curled his tongue into a divot of flesh near her mound. She whimpered.

“They’ll hear,” she whispered. He kissed just above the dark curls covering her mound and chuckled.

“So? Let ‘em.”

“Oh,” she breathed, and then he hauled her hips up to his mouth and sucked on her lower lips.

She was slick for him already, and he delved into the strong tasting liquid dripping from her with abandon, remembering the flavour of her from the last time he’d done this. His strong hands anchored her to him as she began to writhe, gasping softly, and she grasped his wrists tightly for something to hold on to. Her fingers stroked idly over his pulse as he worked her, his lips and tongue pressed closely to her. He stroked the wet muscle over her clit and felt her attempting to raise her hips, her back arching as best it could with him holding her down. He ended up kneeling on the floor, sucking a little harder when she jerked, stroking lines up and down the seam of her cunt.

“K-Kellogg!” she panted. “Ohhh! Please…”

“Mmmf,” was all she got in reply, and he could feel her toes curling against his back, her nails scratching at him. The underside of his arms proved surprisingly sensitive to the small stings of pain that awoke in the little red lines she left and he grunted into her sex, almost digging his teeth into her core as her touch pulled muffled moans out of him, and he sucked hard on her clit in retribution. Scratches turned into little digs and her thighs clenched around his head as he slid his tongue inside her and thrust it back and forth. He could hear her laboured breathing as he licked her, and her fingers trembled as he slid his tongue over her nub.

He started drawing fast little circles around it and fuck, he was impressed by how quickly she started squirming in his grip. He held her thighs as tightly as he could against him, still trying to listen to the litany of helpless cries that had started falling from her open mouth, feeling her stomach rise and fall with the constant, shallow breaths she was taking in. It was fucking intoxicating to hear her desperate gasps, the rising pitch and volume of them as she got closer to her peak.

“Oh my god,” she pleaded, trembling, the spicy tang of her sweat filling his head. “Fuck…Conrad, _please_!”

 _Shit_ yes, he loved the sound of his name when she said it. He caressed her thighs softly as he finally pushed her over the edge with a growl of pleasure, and melted at the sound of her scream. He could feel it as her high swept over her body, arching her up into him as her legs tensed and her toes curled again. She fell back against the table with a thump and he took a few seconds to keep licking until she pushed his head weakly, at which he drew back and licked his lips clean of her slick.

She managed to push herself onto her elbows as he got off his knees, her body shiny with sweat and shaking from her orgasm. He wiped his face clean with the back of his arm as she curled herself into a ball, her eyes tightly shut as she sucked in air.

“Got me on my knees again,” he rumbled, leaning over her as he trailed his fingers down her leg. She gulped for breath and curled her calf around his hip, covering herself. “You’re still so _shy_ ,” he breathed, lifting her hand from her breast.

“Uhuh,” she whimpered, as his thumb rolled over her nipple, her lids parting briefly. She bit her lip, managing to sit up and cup the back of his head with her hand. Her lipstick was smeared across her mouth, and he wiped it clean with a piece of cloth from his back pocket, dipping his head to kiss her again. She pushed into him, sliding her other arm around his back and holding him to her. He was starting to really enjoy how she felt in his arms, and the soft, satisfied sounds she was making as their lips moved against each other. Still he was starting to feel neglected, and he pulled back to nuzzle her jaw.

“Got a bed here?” he rumbled, and she blushed, eyes widening. How did she do that? He’d just gotten her screaming and a minute later, she was turning pink at the concept of sex. Fuck, it was too cute. Still, she nodded, pointing up behind him, and he picked her up by the backs of her thighs and hauled the two of them upstairs. Her bed was small but neat and clean, and it had covers and a pillow.

He laid her down on the covers and was reaching for the belt around his waist when her fingers beat him to it, getting his trousers down to his knees in record time and pulling him onto the bed. He let out a noise of surprise when she managed to roll him onto his back, her thighs sliding either side of his calves as she just about managed to lean over and kiss him.

“You’re…mmf…enthusiastic,” he rasped, as her teeth nibbled his lower lip. He heard her chuckle quietly, and her lips trailed down his jaw, kissing along the skin before her tongue made a wet line down his throat. He groaned, inhaling when she teethed along his collarbone and pressed soft kisses down his chest, her lips stilling over his beating heart. She swirled her tongue over his nipple and he hissed out a desperate ‘ _fuck_ ’ and dropped onto the bed, his elbows giving out. She scraped her teeth down his stomach and he fisted his hands into the bedclothes as she kissed the hard planes of muscle, making them twitch. Nora took a moment to pull his trousers off his feet and throw them aside. Her fingers curled into the elastic of his boxers and he watched a small grin curve at her lips.

“This seems familiar,” she murmured, even though her cheeks were going pink again.

“We’re missing a vital ingredient in the form of duct tape,” he muttered, as she pulled the elastic back, and then grunted when it was snapped against his hip.

“No…no,” she began. “That…didn’t work. Didn’t hold you. I don’t, uh…trust it.”

He went to laugh and she curled her tongue into his hipbone and stroked with a singular, smooth lick, and his brain backfired and he ended up choking on a moan instead. She started sliding the boxers down his thighs and he lifted his hips to help her do it, enjoying the soft stroke of the fabric over his calves before she disposed of that too, crouching by his knees as she rubbed his thighs gently. He closed his eyes as the soft touches, lower lip trembling as her fingers pushed upwards and towards his crotch. Her hand slid around his length and he exhaled sharply as she squeezed a little, her thumb stroking him gently along the underside. He could feel himself twitching.

“We should try that again one day,” he gasped out, as she gripped him a little harder, kissing his inner thighs.

“You…want me to tie you up again?” she breathed, her tongue flicking just beneath the ridge of the crown. He lost coherent thought for a moment, inhaling deeply.

“Sure, why the hell not?” he chuckled breathlessly. “Worked out pretty well last time.”

She chuckled as she pressed her lips to the head of his cock, slowly parting them to let him slide past them. His body was suddenly on fire, clenching his teeth as she sucked slowly. He tangled his fingers into her hair, something he hadn’t been able to do last time, and took a sharp breath when she pushed her head a little further down.

“God,” he rumbled. “You _really_ like doing this.”

She didn’t respond, slowly bobbing and exhaling through her nose, both hands massaging him gently. She sucked on the head gently, her closed fist moving up and down his shaft repeatedly until he was biting down on his lip. He stroked her scalp with his nails and she moaned, her mouth humming around him and causing hot desire to flood him. She removed her hand momentarily to take him in to the base, and then her mouth was moving again, back and forth over the sensitive flesh hard and fast, teething gently over the head and ripping a cry from him. The noise seemed to spur her on, and she lifted her mouth from him a second later to press little sucking kisses down his length as her hand returned, squeezing him and letting her tongue sweep over his balls. She jerked him off as she did so and he let out a strangled cry, his hands pulling her hair gently.

She slid her other hand around him and returned to the head to pull on it with her lips, her tongue slicking into the slit at the top.

“Shit,” he chanted, feeling a trickle of sweat down the underside of his forearm. “Goddamn, god…”

She chuckled and it vibrated through his cock, her hand sliding down to caress his sac softly, using her right hand to assist her mouth as she wound him closer to the edge.

“Nora,” he gasped, “I…”

He was twitching now, teeth gritting, body arching, his toes curling just like hers had, and she swooped down to the base and sucked until his head filled with white noise and sparks went off behind his eyes. Lightning zipped up his spine, and he tried hard not to choke her, eventually falling limp against the bed as the Vault dweller slowed her fucking _amazing_ mouth and lifted her head. He looked up in time to see her swallowing, and that sent another wave of pleasure over him as she wiped her lips clean.

“You okay?” she murmured, her breathing a little heavy from her attentions to him.

“Uhhhh,” he managed, lying back against the bed. “Moment…please…”

He felt her slide up the sheets to curl into him, her head slipping beneath his neck. She nuzzled gently, kissing the skin, and he managed to slide an arm around her, gasping in breaths to try and calm his racing heart.

“I…I like your voice,” she whispered shyly, and he chuckled despite his need for air.

“I…noticed,” he said, sliding his hand down to her ass. He squeezed gently and she pressed herself into him, a little whimper leaving her. He slid his other hand other her face, silently stroking the hard lines of her jaw and cheekbones whilst he regained his breath.

She was kissing him suddenly between his pulls of air, her body pressing softly into his as he moved his hand to her breast and played with a nipple. The pads skimmed downwards, over her stomach, and he coaxed her legs open and slid two fingers inside, entering her easily. She was still dripping, aroused by the noises he made and the act of pleasuring him, and as he crooked them she made eye contact with him. Just the sight of the pleasure-glazed cerulean made him hard again. Somehow, kissing her with his eyes open was just as good as keeping them closed, but when they were shut he found himself enjoying the soft noises she made just a little bit more. His fingers moved a little faster as he felt the blood running back to his cock, and she moved to slide beneath him, but he stopped her with an arm.

“Uh-uh,” he breathed. She was slipping into a pleasured daze, a little confused, and he sat her up, moving onto his back and grasping her thighs. He slid the soft limbs either side of his hips and gently lowered her until her body was seated on his legs.

“Why…are you…”

“I wanna see you ride me,” he growled, pushing his cock against her nub. A sweet, tortured expression flitted across her face as her hands moved to his sides to hold on. He bucked a little and she raised her body, fingers shifting to his length to push him into her slit. He gripped her thighs tightly when she began to press down onto him. “Goddamn,” he breathed. “You feel really, _really_ good.”

He slowly thrust himself back and forth, his cock coating itself in her slick, and he looked down to see the lipstick mark around the base that had him biting his nails into her thighs in seconds. Her hips started rolling against him as he did so, and he enjoyed the slick feeling of her walls with his eyes closed for a few moments, grunting softly. He slid his hands up her body to her breasts, admiring the way her body moved. Her hands gripped at his shoulders as she bent over him, her rhythm increasing, and he softly squeezed the generous flesh in his hands as her hair slid over her shoulders and tickled his wrists. He pressed his heels into the bed and used them as leverage to work rough, deep, slow strokes into her wetness, listening as the movements pushed soft moans out of her mouth. She leaned over to kiss him, and swallowed a soft rasping groan in her lips as their bodies began making slick, wet noises from where they were joined.

“More,” he breathed, moving a hand to her hip to help guide her, pushing her pace to be rougher and harder and pulling louder noises from her lips.

“K-keep talking,” she pleaded, arching her back as she used her muscles to squeeze him, her walls caressing him as she moved faster, and he let out a gentle laugh, both hands on her hips now to rut her against him.

“That’s it,” he gasped, watching her as he thrust. “God, yeah.” She arched her back as his cock rubbed her walls harder, thighs parting widely to accommodate him better. “That’s a _really_ fucking good view.”

She gazed down at him, and he bit back a moan as their eyes met, seeing how she squeezed hers shut and switched from a roll to a bounce, whimpering each time he hilted in her. He found himself massaging her hips with his thumbs, his hands large enough to hold her as he pushed the soft lips of her mound around her clit. He enjoyed the hitch of breath, and when he rubbed directly over the bud she expelled it in a loud cry, a trickle of sweat running between her breasts. He sat up quickly to catch it on his tongue, and sucked on her nipple. She was even louder this time, palms sweaty on his body as she rutted hard and fast. He could feel her pulsing, getting closer, and groaned deeply. That got her gasping, just the noise of his pleasure was good for her.

“You getting close?” he chuckled, watching her shiver at the sound.

“Yes!” she whispered, her lips trembling. He sucked on her neck, leaving lovely marks along with the others. “F-fuck, Conrad…”

“Shit,” he breathed into her skin. “C’mon, Nora.” He dipped a hand between her legs. “Come for me.”

He pressed his teeth into her flesh and his lover switched languages, praising him in a foreign tongue that was music to his ears. Her sex tightened as her voice rose into a song of delight, skin shimmering with sweat and exertion, her fingers trembling. She scratched him hard as she peaked, her body glowing with her pleasure, her slit leaking as she came. It didn’t look like a gentle one, but her face looked wonderful and he kept rubbing her clit until she was pulling away. Kellogg laid back down, grasped her breasts, and began to fuck her hard from below until he could feel his own end drawing near.

“God,” she whimpered, trying to keep upright. “Conrad…you…oh, feel…so good…”

Did she remember what he’d told her? That he enjoyed hearing her speak?

“Keep…talking?” he asked, his breathing laboured as his hips slapped against hers.

“Abhika,” she breathed, leaning down to kiss him. “Mine…so strong…Conrad…”

“Ah, shit,” he cursed, twitching. He grasped her around the waist and listened to her gasp of delight as he spurted inside of her, her arms sliding around his neck to keep him anchored tightly when his nails scratched across her back. “Fuck…Nora…”

They slid down onto the bed together, bodies slick with sweat and their own fluids. She kept her thighs tightly together to stop his seed from spilling out, and he gulped at the thought. Her head nestled over his heart, and for a while, they lay together, trying to even out their breathing. He had tingles down his spine, warmth blossoming in his chest.

“That was something,” he panted after a while, and she giggled breathlessly. He could feel her smile against his skin, and cupped the back of her head to keep her close.

“Shall we…more…later?” she suggested, and goddamn, she was going shy again.

“Damn right,” he rumbled. “I wanna put you on your knees.”

He could feel her chest expand as she pulled in air, the thought of it clearly arousing her. She kissed his collarbone, her lashes fluttering.

“Oh…god…yes,” she whispered into his skin, and he crushed her against him and pulled her up for a kiss.

“You’d better get your breath back, lady,” he murmured, “ ‘cause I’m ready to go whenever you are.”


	6. Wrath - X6-88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> extreme anger.

X6-88 liked to think that he had patience.

He was an efficient unit, well-trained, skilled. He was, as the Director had once called him with a small smile, the poster boy for the best Courser, though he was uncertain what a poster boy was. He was a killing machine and proud of it. The Director’s companion, the one with the glasses, had told him it was like he was made of stone.

So if he was as cold and hard as stone, Unit X6-88 was requesting clarification as to why his biological functions errored whenever the Director wore her Vault suit. He couldn’t understand why. It was just blue fabric with yellow on it that was designed for optimal movement and speed efficiency by being tight against the wearer’s body. As far as he was aware it emitted no strange frequencies or chemical by-products that would cause his facial derma to heat with blood and his sexual organs to swell and hurt.

He was well aware of the ramifications of such biological urges. They occurred in the human mating cycle whenever two or more of the species desired copulation and/or reproduction. But the Director had never approached him regarding such an activity or suggested it with him in earshot, so he didn’t understand what his body was doing with such reactions when they were not required.

Nevertheless he had to admit, the aesthetic appearance of his Director in her suit was pleasant. He liked to stare at her whilst she wore it when she wasn’t looking. He was by no means a geometrician but her hips had an appealing curve. Well, honestly, all of her did. Director Pendleton was excellently shaped and likely optimal for reproductive purposes, with an added bonus of clean, radiation-free DNA that had proved beneficial in multiple areas that the Institute had applied it to.

He was aware that the Director had been sexually active with asset Kellogg and the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel – that pregnancy had been of interest Doctor Volkert and Alan Binet before they decided the DNA had just a few too many rads to be of use to them, and then they’d had to restrain the Director because she had almost lost her mind when they asked for a sample.

Volkert still hurried in the opposite direction whenever she came near him.  

But Unit X6-88 knew that the Director would not approach him for reproductive purposes, as synths like him were unable to produce children. Still, even if she was not willing to engage him in her biological urges, he could still examine her body when she was equipped with the standard issue suit.

He just didn’t realise he was being so obvious about it.

He was midway through watching her back on one of their surface missions when an arm slung itself around his neck, and a hefty body leaned against his. Before he could shove it away, there was another arm around his shoulders from the other side.

“All right, handsome?” a woman chuckled.

“Cait,” he deadpanned.

“Hey, don’t ignore me,” the other rasped.

“Mayor Hancock.”

“What’ya doin?” the Irishwoman asked with a grin.

“Guarding the perimeter whilst the Director makes a purchase,” X6 replied. “Get your arms off me.”

“You’re no fun,” Cait pouted, sliding off him. The ghoul remained clinging for a moment.

“Guarding the perimeter, huh?” he laughed. “Cause, to me, it looks like you’re just staring at the Vaultie’s ass.”

“The Director is my charge,” X6 replied.

“Uh-huh,” Cait snickered. “That why your eyes ain’t left her backside since ye walked in here? You know you coulda gotten shanked at least five times since she went to Daisy’s, right?”

“Director Pendleton has a pleasant figure,” the Courser said, trying to keep his voice even. “I’m always happy to escort her.”

“He hasn’t,” Cait said decidedly. “You ain’t fucked her yet? Not surprised. Can Coursers even get stiff?”

“My biological functions are unimpaired.”

“Christ.”

“It uh, ever pop up whilst you look at her?” Hancock asked.

“Often. I’m uncertain as to why. It’s not like the Director has ever approached me regarding her cycle.”

“You think you only get stiff when you get asked? God, wish more guys were like that,” Cait muttered.

“Look, X6, your body’s gonna get cosy with hers whether she asked you or not. We don’t control it, my terrifying friend. It’s a natural urge. When we see, smell, hear somethin’ we like…pop, up come the hormones.”

“So I am not in need of repairs or dysfunctional?” the Courser clarified.

“Oh boy, you’re definitely human,” Hancock said with a grin. “And hey, look, just cause she ain’t fucked you yet doesn’t mean she won’t.”

“It is unsurprising. I am not fertile and able to give the Director offspring.”

Hancock laughed, and X6 buried the urge to crack his pistol across the ghoul’s face.

“You know we don’t fuck up here just for kids, right? We do it for fun.”

“You mean there’s a leisure element to the reproductive process?” X6 asked, his eyes widening behind the shades. Hancock looked at Cait. Cait’s mouth dropped open.

“Jesus, he’s never had an orgasm,” she breathed. Hancock’s brows raised.

“Okay Cait, stay with the Courser,” he began.

“Where’re you goin’?” Cait asked.

“To our little Vaultie.”

-

“Hey, Daisy,” Hancock drawled, sliding in behind the blue-suited General. “Mind if we borrow your back room?”

The older ghoul levelled a look at the mayor.

“Oh yeah? Am I gonna have to fix any broken walls?” she asked.

“It ain’t like that,” he promised her. “Just need to talk to my best gal a second.”

“Hurt the kid, I blowtorch your hat,” Daisy threatened.

“ _Daisy_ ,” Hancock breathed. “Christ, she means a lot to you, huh?”

“Come on Mr Mayor,” Nora said with a soft smile. “Before you forget what you were going to say.”

“Right.”

Hancock grasped the woman’s elbow and pulled her to the back of the shop, smirking the whole way.

“Should I like the look on your face?” she asked, brow cocking.

“Probably,” the ghoul chuckled. “Your Courser buddy.”

“He’s not causing a problem, is he?”

“No, sister,” the mayor told her, “you are though.”

“You’re a funny guy,” she sighed.

“No, no, I’m serious,” he assured her, grinning. “Your bodyguard can’t stop staring at your ass, General. And I don’t mean in the protective sense.”

“X6…he wouldn’t.”

“Oh yeah? Tell that to the pistol poking at his coat.”

Her eyes widened, blood suffusing her face.

“Hancock!” she hissed. “That can’t be true, he’s a Courser, they don’t…you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Hancock snickered. “Though it’s more like a rifle-”

She slapped him on the arm. “Hancock, be serious. X6 is my bodyguard, he’s a Courser, they’ve had years of training…”

“Girl, all the training in the world’s not gonna stop a man reacting to the sight of your shapely hips in Vault blue,” the ghoul murmured with a dirty laugh. “Hey, you uh…keep him around for the gun or the eye candy? Or…the guns?”

“ _Hancock!_ ” she sputtered. Her cheeks were so hot they were glowing. The ghoul laughed again.

“Oh, so you _did_ notice that your bodyguard’s a hottie?” he asked.

“He also means a lot to me!” she insisted. One brow arched in her direction. “Okay…yes. X6 is…he’s very attractive. He’s also…look, Hancock, this isn’t funny. Synths have…there’s consent issues here, okay? He’s supposed to do what I ask of him, I can’t…I can’t.”

“Then all you gotta do is make sure _he_ comes to _you_ , not the other way round,” Hancock told her. “Gotta make him want you so bad _he’s_ asking _you_ for permission.”

“I’m not seducing a Courser!” she gasped.

“Okay, but you _want_ to,” Hancock pointed out. “Just sayin’…enough hip swingin’ and bending over and that boy is gonna be on you like green on a mutant.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” she muttered.

“Long as I don’t stop you from blushin’ and stuttering in bed,” he rasped. “That? That shit’s _cute_.”

“I hate you.”

“Mmm, tell me more.”

“Daisy, get the blowtorch!”

-

There was only one more thing Hancock had said to him before the Director had left Goodneighbour, and he couldn’t get it out of his head. He didn’t quite understand the reasoning behind it. Certainly from a logical perspective it made no sense – none he could see, anyway.

Not that he was thinking about it too hard.

The Director had…relaxed a little.

He was attempting not to stare. They’d holed up in an abandoned block of flats with a barricaded door. It was dark outside. And the Director was…

He didn’t know what.

She had…her leg was pressed against the wall, her ankle just around her head. He hoped his mouth was shut. He had never seen anyone that flexible before.

“Ma’am…what…what’s the function of these…”

“They’re stretches, X6,” she replied.

“For your limbs?”

Her leg slid down the wall. Her arms raised above her head and she arched her back a little. He forced his gaze to remain on her face and not to the rising curve of her breast.

“Yep,” she finally said. “I used to dance.”

“What’s dancing?”

She stopped, her eyes widening. A second later she was whirling around, arms and legs moving her gracefully across the room, pausing with her hands above her head, one foot in front of the other. He was drawn to the movements, to how easily she used them to travel.

“That’s dancing,” she eventually said. “It’s…oh, how do I describe it? It’s usually done to music. You know the classical radio signal the Institute broadcasts?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Some of the music on it is from a ballet. Swan Lake, the Finale, Pyotr Tchaikovsky. Ballet used to be a type of dance.” She gave him a sad smile. “Wish we hadn’t lost that in the rubble.”

“And you used to…ballet dance?” he asked.

“That’s right. I was a ballerina. God, my mother _hated_ it.” She grinned. “Which is why I kept taking classes even through college. Never stopped practising.”

“There were classes that taught this?”

“Mhmm.”

“What was the purpose?”

“Career. Fun. Exercise.” She stepped onto her tiptoes and suddenly moved into a whirl, one leg tucked up to her thigh, toes pointing sharply inward before kicking out to turn her body. She stepped out of the spin and leaned forwards, her arm sloping over her head, eyes to the ceiling. He suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Career?” he asked, inhaling a deep lung full of air as quietly as he could. She sighed.

“Yeah, it was considered a real cultural pillar. Some dancers got really famous from doing it. Went all over the world, back when that was possible.”

“Your old world considered dancing…a worthwhile pursuit worthy of fame? What…I don’t understand, ma’am. What were the benefits?”

“We did it for fun, X6,” she laughed. “I danced because it made me feel good.”

“Your world was so strange.”

She smiled at him.

“Yours is stranger.”

His brow furrowed. “Can anyone dance?”

“Sure, if you want to learn.” She paused. “…do you?”

“That depends. Do you consider me capable?”

“You, uh…need to take your coat off.”

Confused, the Courser unzipped his long coat and tossed it aside. Nora’s hands reached towards his face.

“Can I take your shades off?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He felt exposed without the glasses in front of his eyes, but it was an unavoidable truth that without the tinted glass covering them, he could see the blue in her eyes with greater ease. She hummed.

“Just…stand still, please.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She walked around him slowly, and X6 found himself with the keen sensation of being appraised. If it was anyone other than the Director he would had feel large measures of discomfort. Somehow, she did not unnerve him.

“…I’m going to need to put my hands on you. That okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The first gentle press of her fingers against his back was like fire licking up his spine. He had been burned before but this was _different_ , it was _good_. She hummed thoughtfully, her fingers skimming over his arm, and a moment later she moved back.

“Well, you’re pretty agile,” she began. “But, your build is all wrong. I think you might be too much of a tank. There’s a lot of muscle on you, X6. Having said that, you could do some of the lifts with no problem. I doubt I’m going to be too heavy for you.”

“What is a lift?”

“Honestly? You pick me up by the hips and lift me into the air,” she admitted. “It’s…sort of intimate.”

“Is this going to be an issue, ma’am?”

He watched her cheeks darken.

“Well, I…do you mind holding me up?” the Director finally asked.

“I follow your orders, ma’am,” X6 reminded her. She bit her lip. X6 straightened up as his biological urges started firing off wildly. He could already feel his sense of smell increasing.

“Yes, but…do you _want_ to?” she asked, her throat bobbing. His eyes finally met hers. An odd, electrical impulse seemed to shiver through him.

“I don’t mind the idea of touching you,” he murmured. “Not at all.”

“Ah,” she mumbled.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, ma’am?”

“Quite the opposite,” she assured him softly.

X6 steeled himself. A hand hovered near her hip.

“Would you like me to?”

“To…make me uncomfortable? I’m…not quite sure I understand.”

“Because, ma’am, you have been making me uncomfortable,” he told her, gripping her hips tightly.

“X6, I-”

“Your suit is built for optimal movement and thus excellent for combat, but its figure-hugging qualities make it a great distraction,” the Courser confessed. “And I’m not certain that you don’t know that.”

“X6, I don’t-”

“-know what I’m talking about, I’m certain. As you are certain that you were not stretching just now in order to showcase your impressive physique. Are you aware that your body is currently in its peak physical form for childbearing, not counting your impressive clean DNA and outward appeal?” the Courser asked, his head tilting.

The Director was blushing. He could see guilt on her features.

“So you were aware?”

“Hancock…told me you’d…you know…been staring,” she murmured. With a gasp, he hauled her against his body, his eyes staring into hers.

“So you were posturing, ma’am?”

“Y-yes.”

“You were teasing me.”

“I…maybe.”

Vault blue material came away in his hands with a loud ripping sound, and he methodically slid down the fabric down to her hips as the Director gasped, gripping his shoulders to steady herself.

“X6, that suit was-”

“Easily replaced, ma’am,” he said calmly. With one open-palmed push the Director fell into the couch behind her, and the Courser rapidly unlaced her boots and tossed them aside, ripping blue fabric from her as her eyes widened. “You can always wear my coat.”

X6 pulled off his uniform shirt and threw it aside with the scraps of her Vault suit. He kept his gaze on her as he unbuckled his trousers. She wasn’t afraid of him, at least, but she was curled, somewhat vulnerably, into the cushions as he kicked off his combat boots and swept them aside with his foot, dropping his trousers.

“So you appealed to the base biological urges present in all animals and humans,” X6 began. “Which you were correct to assume I possessed, since synths are engineered similarly to humans and thus have the same cycles and needs.” He raised a brow. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” she breathed. He noticed her eyes moving down his body and removed his trousers.

“But, you didn’t start doing this until you were aware that I considered it appealing,” he added. “Still correct?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I…didn’t want to pressure you into doing anything you didn’t want,” she murmured. X6 nodded.

“I appreciate the concern you’ve expressed towards my feelings, ma’am. Still.”

One still-gloved hand moved down and gently grasped her chin, tilting her head up to look at him.

“You were brave enough to purposely attempt to seduce me, regardless of whether you used words or actions.”

The Courser sat, and pushed her down into the couch. One hand kept her there.

“Now that you have my attention, you’re going to find out what it’s like to be on the receiving end. If you decide you don’t want that, you can say the word Gamma, but if you don’t say it, I’m doing what I want.”

Her mouth dropped open. X6 leaned down and bestowed a hard, bruising kiss on her lips, pushing a groan out of her as their mouths moved together. He pinned her hands above her head as her tongue flicked out across his lips and her teeth dug in. The Courser grunted, pulling back. His head was beginning to cloud now, his thought processes…he couldn’t describe it. He watched the Director lick her lips. He could feel himself swelling.

“Keep your hands there,” he said, releasing her wrists to unclasp her bra and throw it into a corner. His palms cupped over her breasts, marvelling at the softness of her body as his thumbs began to roll over her nipples. Little noises escaped her lips, her hips bucking marginally as the stimulation moved through her nerves and registered in her brain. His hands were a perfect fit, and she arched up into them. The Courser kept stroking for a moment, watching her lips press together, eyes closing gently, as her body gently rolled.

X6 scratched down her stomach, slipping his hands beneath her body and grasping handfuls of her backside, parting her thighs widely as he leaned down to kiss her again. She kept her hands above her head but it was clear she wanted to touch him. He pushed his fingers between her legs, stroking them slowly down her slit and listening to her gasp of need. His thumb pressed against her clit and began to circle, his free hand sliding back up her stomach and over her breast before grasping her wrists and keeping her pinned. The Director moaned softly, biting her lip as she surged herself onto his digits.

His mind wanted to run commentary on the amount of lubrication that her body had produced but he was struck by just how clinical his observations were. When he slid a finger inside her slowly, he was amazed at the heat, the softness. The briefest of movements inside her made his Director moan helplessly, lips falling open. The Courser withdrew his finger, thumb still on her nub, and listened to her whimper, sliding back in and withdrawing until she was panting.

“X6,” she breathed.

“You know the word,” he murmured.

“Please?”

“Wrong one,” he said, nipping at her neck. Her arms pushed against his hand as his fingers slid inside her, curling slowly until her hips began to ride his hand. He kept rubbing her nub, darting down to wet his thumb with her lubricant before stroking again, two fingers pressed in to the knuckle. She clenched around him as he continued, and he dipped his mouth to her neck and bit down softly on her skin, licking gently over the marks. Her thighs attempted to close around his hand.

“If you try to stop me, I will secure your wrists and leave you unable to move,” he told her calmly, pulling back to look at her. Her eyes had widened, and she inhaled sharply. Her thighs parted again and his fingers kept moving, stroking over her inner walls until her spine was arching helplessly into the touch. Something about it made his genitals twitch.

“Oh god,” she whimpered. “Oh god…X6…”

His hand pulled away. She let out a yelp, frowning,

“What…are you doing?” she panted.

“Teasing,” the Courser replied calmly. “I consider this a fair exchange.”

“God, I hate yo- _fuck!_ ”

He pressed three fingers into her as she protested and ended her complaints with a cry instead, intrigued by his control over her body. A single crook of his fingers got her hips rising into the touch, and she was producing more lubricant than she needed – some of it dripped down his fingers as he kept going, strokes becoming more forceful. He could feel her quiver, watching her rock against the digits as he kept moving. Interesting. Removing and then reapplying internal and external stimulation appeared to result in the time between the extremity of her movements decreasing. She was arching and struggling furiously now, and he could feel her vaginal muscles tightening slowly.

“Please, please, don’t,” she begged. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Why not?” he asked.

“X6,” she whimpered. “Please, I’m…I’m begging you…god…”

“What do you want me to do, ma’am?” he murmured.

“Keep…your fingers…don’t stop moving them, I…”

He released her hands, moving to kiss her roughly as he palmed a breast, fingers and thumb still inside her and moving at a more than adequate pace. The twitches of muscle in her body were fascinating, and he pulled back as the kiss ended to watch her. Her lips parted wide, and she let out a loud, desperate cry as she clenched down on him repeatedly, squirming into his attentions as her hands clamped down on his forearms and nails bit into his skin with a vengeance. He kept his strokes rough and fast, pumping his fingers into her until finally, as her cries died down, she reached for his hand, and slowly pulled it away. The sounds made him hurt.

“F-fuck…oh…god…”

He extricated his fingers and slid them into his mouth to taste her. It was a strong, rich flavour, not unpleasant but certainly new. His eyes flicked down to her prone body, draped across the couch, and realised that she was gazing at his tongue as it cleaned her lubricant off his fingers.

“Satisfactory, ma’am?” he asked, pulling the gloves off and tossing them aside. He allowed her time to regain her breath, watching her chest heave. Her body was flushed with blood, and in some places little drops of sweat were rolling off of her. She nodded, and he sat back to let her recover. “Your lubricant tastes unique. May I?”

“H-hold on!” she whimpered. “I…it’d be too much.”

“In what way, ma’am?”

“S-stimulation of…nerve endings…result in a climax…it’s called an orgasm,” she managed. “It’s…the fun part of…having sex.”

“Cait mentioned something about an orgasm earlier. Is that what the vaginal clenching and the noises were about?”

She nodded again.

“G-give me a…a moment, X6…”

 

He watched her slide her hands into her hair, and then her fingers began to pluck at various sections. He leaned forward a little to see better and realised that she was removing all her bobby pins, and she sat up just enough to let the style unravel, dark brown strands falling down her back. He watched it happen, finding himself mesmerised.

“O-okay,” she whispered shakily. His head dipped, kissing her stomach, and then down to her sex. His tongue flicked out over the sensitive nub, and the Director fell back, curling a hand into his hair. His hands slid around her thighs and held her open, his tongue painting long, broad strokes down the wet opening until her body was curving into his touches. Her taste was just as unique and enjoyable as it had been when he’d licked it off his gloves.

Her shaking fingers stroked through his hair, and he found himself groaning at the soft application. It felt exceptionally pleasant. Her soft moans filled the air, and X6 found himself considering the situation to be more than pleasant. He would happily do this again and again.

Her hand moved, fingers gripping his chin, and she tilted his head up to look at her.

“Please, I-I need you,” she breathed.

“What do you want from me, ma’am?” he murmured, rising up and pushing off his underwear.

“Don’t make me say it,” she whispered. “I…I’m not good at it.”

“Then how do I know what you want?” he asked.

“I hate you and your smug face,” she panted. He grinned at her. “Please, X6…what do you call it?”

“Copulation, ma’am,” he said. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please…”

The Courser grasped her hips, his erect penis stroking along her nub until she was writhing.

“Hancock told you I was staring,” he began. “But I didn’t tell you what he told me.”

“What did he tell you?” she whispered, and kissed his jaw.

He tossed her onto her back, his chest pressing against her body as he lined himself up with her.

“Hancock told me you like to be manhandled.”

He slid inside of her and all neural functions seemed to cease at the sensation of her tight, slick walls clenching around him. He attempted to regulate his breathing, but it was rendered impossible the moment Nora let out a soft moan. The sounds she made were doing something to him.

“He…said what?” she whimpered, as the synth reached underneath her.

“You like to be manhandled,” the Courser repeated, stroking his fingers over her nub. She pressed her backside into him and he slid into the hilt, his hips bucking unwittingly. “Thrown around, scratched. Not slapped, he was clear regarding that, though I’m not certain I understand how that’s enjoyable.”

“Fuck,” she breathed. “X6…k-keep…talking… _oh god,_ please?”

“Do you like to hear me speak, Director?” he asked, rolling his body against hers. His hips canted slightly and her fingers grasped hold of the couch, digging in. He could see the pressure she was exerting and recreated the movement. It was certainly an excellent application of the hip thrust – each time he did it, she pushed against him with a short gasp.

“Oh god…”

“Is hearing me talk going to bring you to another orgasm, Director?”

He held her against him using his right arm, the hand still busy between her legs. She squeezed him with her inner muscles and bucked her body. X6 responded with a hard thrust.

“I can keep speaking for as long as you need,” he added. “I am equipped with infinitely more superior stamina. The sensations you’re giving me are excellent, enjoyable, but I will be able to hold out for longer than you.”

“Please,” she whimpered. “Oh god, please.”

“What do you need?” he asked, leaning in close to her ear.

“You,” she breathed.

The Courser gave.

His body and hers pressed close, their hips meeting again and again as the Courser drove himself deep within her. She was like a warm, silken vice, and he wished he could record the noises her body produced. It was musical. Soft moans. Gentle cries. A sharp yelp. The slap of skin. The slick, lubricated sound their combined sex organs made. His fingers continually stimulated her, and he decorated her back and neck with bites, leaving teeth marks and little bruises that would need to be tended to later.

She never cried gamma, no matter how hard he took her, though he was careful not to abuse his strength. She had one orgasm, clenching down on him until he gritted his teeth and growled. Stamina aside, the sensation of her muscles milking him was unbearably pleasurable. The second time she climaxed she started to struggle, and one hand clasped around his wrist. He remained undeterred as he continued to stroke her nub, cupping a breast with his other hand. She merely slumped into the couch with a loud cry and whimpered his designation.

The Courser soon found himself breathless, blood running through his body and causing an exothermic reaction, sweat dripping down his skin. The woman beneath him simply writhed, whimpering his name with a voice that made his spine tingle, soft and pliable, gleaming with sweat beneath him as he kept going. He was certain she was close to her fourth, maybe fifth orgasm, and he could feel her growing weak.

“X6,” she breathed. “I…need you to…”

He bit her.

She arched against him, a droplet of sweat rolling down her body, and panted desperately, crying out his name again, squeezing him ruthlessly. The Courser cursed. She was coming again, trembling and pliable in his hands. With shaking fingers she reached for him, and her nails raked up his stomach. The Courser had only a split second of warning before he swelled up and twitched.

“Come for me!” she gasped.

He had no adequate words to describe the sensation that came over his body as he continued to thrust erratically into her, the desperation that flared in him as he fought to prolong the feeling, the heat and the blinding…the pressure…there was _nothing_ that could have prepared him for this. It was _good_ , and that was the only word he had for it.

They slumped against the couch, breathless, and his head fell into her hair and he inhaled deeply, the smell of Hubflowers filling his nose as his shaky fingers moved to her hips.

“Ma’am?” he whispered, his heart pounding.

“I think,” she panted, “that…after this…you can…call me…Nora.”

“Yes ma’am,” he managed, and worked up the strength to move onto his back and place her on his chest.

It took several minutes for the laboured breathing to die down, and then she was content to spend a moment tracing shapes into his sweat-covered chest with her own damp fingers.

“I don’t understand,” she eventually said. “You…have…I mean, you were a virgin, how did you…know all of that?”

“All of what?” he asked.

“You’re…you’re not kidding? X6…no virgin has that skillset. Not one.”

“Then, ma’am, I’m not sure what to tell you,” he admitted.

“It’s Nora to you,” she reminded him. Her brows furrowed. “So…if you’ve never learned how…does that mean you were implanted with the skills? Perhaps you were reset, maybe you’ve done it before but don’t remember?”

“Acting Director Ayo assures me I have never been reset.”

“So he’s either lying, or someone implanted you with the skills to…wait…why would…anyone…oh god.”

She kissed his chest.

“X6, when you’re ready, I’m going to need some fresh clothes, and then we’re going to relay back to the Institute,” she began.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” he asked.

“There’s a problem,” she confirmed. “Justin Ayo’s ass needs tossing off the Director’s balcony and no one’s done it yet.”

“…Yes ma’am.”


End file.
